


The Invisible In Between

by Acidqueen



Category: Mass Effect, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 23:17:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 133,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acidqueen/pseuds/Acidqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters and Castiel have encountered a boatload of monsters, stopped the Apocalypse, fought against the forces of Heaven and Hell, even been to an alternate Earth where they were actors in a TV show about their lives. But nothing could have prepared Team Free Will for a world where Humanity has reached the stars just in time to encounter the galaxy's greatest threat.</p><p>**This work will contain some mild spoilers for Seasons 9 and 10, and hints at Season 11**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strange Days

**Author's Note:**

> I took a "John Carter" approach with Team Free Will, and let their point of view show how unfamiliar they are with the Earth of 2186. Eventually they will mesh with Commander Shepard and the rest of the Normandy crew, but the first few chapters will, I hope, show how far out of water these fish are.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean, and Castiel wind up in Vancouver...again.

Dean flew through Bobby’s front window, half-pushed and half-thrown. He landed hard, face-first, on wet grass and almost immediately passed out.

He came to slowly, the sun and breeze playing hot-and-cold on him. He smelled damp vegetation and roses, cut with a faint whiff of salt that stung the inside of his nose a bit. The chirping of birds reached his ears. He squeezed his eyes tightly and winced with at his aching face. A foot nudging him in the side made Dean wince, and he opened his eyes to see a blonde man standing over him wearing a blue-tinted visor of some kind and a deep blue uniform. The shirt said POLICE on the front.

“Hey buddy,” the cop said. “You can’t be here. Get up and move along, or I’ll run you and your friends in for vagrancy.”

Dean blinked, then slowly sat up and looked around, gently feeling his face and wiggling his jaw a bit. _Nothing broken_ , he thought. _Let’s hear it for small favours_. He was in a public park. The area was surrounded by trees, joggers and walkers on a nearby footpath either oblivious to or pointedly not paying attention to them. Sam lay face-down on the grass, splayed out with a trail of flattened grass leading to his feet from a foot away. “What the--? Oh, yeah,” he said, easing himself up from the ground. He wobbled slightly and muttered a curse when he almost fell over, but quickly shifted his feet and regained his balance. “Sorry, officer—was kind of a long night. Girls, drinks, a little pool….” He knelt down next to Sam and gently shook him. “Rise and shine Sammy, time to go.”

Sam groaned and rolled over. He squinted up at his brother, then sat up and looked around while massaging his forehead with his fingers like he was fighting off a headache. “What the hell happened?" Sam asked. "Where’s Cas?” Dean checked Sam over and then patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. He looked over when he heard a groan to see Castiel slumped over the armrest of a bench, trenchcoat all dirty and grass-stained. Dean helped Sam to his feet and went to check on Castiel. The angel lazily looked up at Dean through half-closed eyes and groaned again before slumping forward.

“Whoa there, buddy!” Dean caught Castiel before the angel fell off the bench. “Let’s get you out of here, and find a place for you to get some shut-eye.” He sniffed and wrinkled his nose at what smelled like rotting fruit. “And maybe a shower. Or maybe that’s just the trash-can I’m smelling.” Sam joined Dean in checking over Castiel.

“He going to be OK?” the patrolman asked. “Want me to call an ambulance for him?”

Sam turned and shook his head. “No, officer,” he said with a slight smile. “Thanks—he’s….he’s having a migraine. I think. We’ll get him someplace quiet where he can sleep it off.” He quickly turned back to Dean and Castiel. “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” Sam quickly muttered as he and his brother helped Cas to his feet. “Let’s get off the street and find out where we are before Robocop over there decides that we’re trouble.” He looked at his brother and added, “You look like you’ve had a wrestling match with a bag of grass clippings. What the hell happened?” Dean had grass stains on his knees, left thigh, and jacket. His sandy hair was mussed, a dandelion mashed into his forehead. Sam reached up and plucked the smashed weed from his brother’s forehead, leaving a green and yellow smudge behind.

“Thirty-seven to base, on scene at Stanley Park.” Dean looked back at the cop, and saw him talking into a transparent orange glove. The glove had a handle on the back that looked like a big orange doughnut. “Just some guys that apparently had a little too much to drink and thought they’d sleep it off under the stars,” he said into the glove. “no signs of a struggle or property damage, so I’m letting them off with a warning.” The officer put his arm down, and the orange glove vanished. “OK gentlemen,” he said, “You have a nice day, and don’t let me catch you here again. If you need public transport, there’s a cabstand just outside the park.” He turned and opened the scissor-door of a car with police markings, and got in. The door closed, and the car slowly lifted off over the trees. Sam and Dean both watched agape as the car joined a stream of other cars flying overhead, then looked at each other like they were civilians who had seen a ghost.

“Definitely not in Kansas anymore,” Dean said. “You don’t look much better than I do, by the way.” Sam was similarly grass-stained and had a couple of leaves in his shoulder-length brown hair, which Dean reached up and removed with his free hand. He looked down at Castiel, who was slumped between him and Sam. His trenchcoat had some smudges of dirt on it, but otherwise was still clean. “Cas?” Dean gently patted Castiel’s cheeks, causing the angel to look up at him like a drunk on a bender. “Hey,” Dean said, “Stay with us here buddy. Do you know where we are?”

Castiel looked around lazily, eyes half-closed. He started to say something, and then passed out. “Great,” Sam said. “OK, wherever we are, it’s not where we were. Let’s find a hotel or something and try to figure out what’s going on while Cas gets some rest.” He and Dean set off through the park, half-dragging their friend with them. They came around a small hedgerow, and saw a sign with an icon of what looked like a car on it.

The sign said “Public Transport” in English, and had several more lines of writing underneath. Each line was written in a different strange script. Next to the sign was a glass plate that flashed a different picture—a hand flashed up twice, followed by three different “hands” with three or four fingers each, then a large spot, before repeating. They approached it, and Sam reached out toward the panel when a glint caught his eye. He looked down to see a small silvery object lying in the short grass, one end glowing brightly blue. While Sam reached down to pick up the object, Dean reached out and put his hand on the panel, which lit up and emitted a soft “ping” sound.

A car glided up next to them and settled to a stop. The canopy of the car lifted up, and the doors slid back to expose a spacious four-seat passenger cabin. Dean raised an eyebrow. “Huh,” he quipped. “That’s not like any car I’ve ever seen.” The sleekly aerodynamic car had no wheels, and the back end glowed bright red, in contrast to the pastel purple colour of the car itself. From the back on the passenger side, there was a long flattish tube that sat about a foot and a half off of the rest of the car chassis and extended up toward the front of the car.

Dean and Sam looked at each other, shrugged, and carefully eased Castiel into the back seat before getting into the front seats--Dean behind the wheel and Sam riding shotgun. Sam looked down at the object he had picked up off the ground after he got in. A pictogram of coins was engraved into the side, and one end glowed blue.

“Well, time to see what this baby can do.” Dean and Sam closed the doors, and the canopy lowered. Dean put his hands on the steering wheel of the car, and a panel immediately lit up in front of him. He stabbed a finger at what looked like a “start” button on the panel, letting out a surprised yelp when his hand went through it and his finger jammed hard into the dashboard. “Ow!” He pulled his hand back and rubbed it. “Dammit!”

Sam reached out a hand toward the panel and waved his left hand through it. “Huh, looks like some kind of hologram,” he mused. A symbol that matched the one on the object in Sam’s right hand blinked softly. He and Dean looked at each other for a second, and Sam reached out with the object that the jogger had given him.  The blue end touched the panel, and Sam felt some resistance. The car started with a muffled hum and began to levitate.

“Destination?” A pleasant digitized voice queried.

Dean reached frantically for a handhold as the colour drained from his face. “Son of a bitch! Sammy…Sammy, you know I don’t like flying….”

“Destination?” The voice repeated.

“Dean, breathe.” Sam put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, grabbing hold of his leather jacket.  “This isn’t like the time we went after the phantom traveler, okay? Take a deep breath...” He shook Dean slightly. “Don’t hold it, you’ll pass out. Actually, maybe you passing out would be a good thing--go ahead and hold it.”

“Destination?”

“Uhh….uhh….a hotel! Anywhere, somewhere we can pay with…this thing.” Sam waved the object again. “Dean, don’t hyperventilate.” He put a hand on either side of Dean’s head and turned him so that they were looking at each other. “I’m right here, okay? Cas is here too. We’ll be fine.” Sam looked back toward the panel. “Uhh….can you autopilot?”

The panel lit up again with a list of names and addresses. “These results match your query,” the voice said. “Please select a destination.” Sam quickly scanned the list while trying to keep his brother calm at the same time.

“Uhh…Dockside! Dockside looks good—go there.”

“Destination set. Autopilot engaged. Thank you for visiting Vancouver. We are happy to have you as our guest.”

The ride over the streets of Vancouver was largely uneventful. Dean had discovered, to his relief, that the cab had a seat-belt system. He sat in his seat hugging himself in the safety harness’ embrace, occasionally sneaking looks out the window at the scenery. “Holy mother of crap,” he half-whispered as the cab weaved between soaring skyscrapers, moving in and out of streams of other flying cars as it cruised through Vancouver. Wonder overrode terror when Dean saw what looked like jet-powered helicopters minus the rotors, and holographic billboards advertising local sports teams and what looked like recruitment posters for something called Alliance Military. “We are definitely not in Kansas anymore.” The brothers saw what looked like a futuristic airplane berthed in a hangar, with a couple of large blue-and-white windowless cars cruising around in its vicinity. They craned their necks to get a closer look, when the cab suddenly turned and made its descent.

The streets in front of the hotel were lined with shops and restaurants. Ground vehicle traffic was minimal--a couple of military vehicles were parked about a quarter-mile away from the hotel, and the vehicles that were parked on the street were flying cars like the one Dean and Sam were in.

“You have arrived at your destination,” the cab’s computer chimed as the vehicle settled in front of the hotel and its doors opened. “Thank you for riding Vancouver Public Transit.”

Castiel groaned from the back seat. “My head…” he muttered. Sam stepped out of his seat and helped the angel out of the back. “Where are we?” Castiel asked, looking around blearily. “I don’t recognize this place.”

“It’s Vancouver,” Sam replied. “Come on Cas, let’s get you inside so you can get some sleep.” Sam handed Castiel off to Dean. “Here, take him. I’m going to try getting us a room.” The doors slid apart when the trio approached. The lobby was clean and well-lit, chairs and banquettes arranged for people to sit on while waiting to meet people or for rooms to be prepared. The decor was minimalist with lots of chrome, and various hues of blue trimmed with gold and red.

Small displays advertised local restaurants and attractions, and a television in the corner showed a mustachioed man delivering news updates while a crawl ran across the screen under him. “See what you can find out from the local news,” Sam said before he stepped to the counter and cleared his throat. The desk clerk, a petite brunette with a spray of freckles across her heart-shaped face, popped her head up from the display she was working on and smiled at Sam, straightening her dark blue tunic.

“Welcome to the Dockside,” she said pleasantly while brushing a short lock of hair from her face. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Uh…umm…” Sam stammered. “Yes, no, sorry—I’m new in town, with my brother and a friend of ours, and we were hoping to get a room.”

The clerk raised an eyebrow for a second, then started typing at what looked like a holographic keyboard. She had on a pair of diaphanous gloves that looked like delicate webbing. The bottom edge of the gloves glowed faintly blue, like Sam’s strange object. “You’re in luck--we have vacancies.” She paused. “Hmm, I’m not finding you in our banking system. Do you have a credit chit? I can go ahead and run that. It’ll save you a lot of time.”

Sam blinked for a moment. “Credi—oh yes. It’s been a long trip, sorry.” He reached into his jacket and took out the object that he used to pay for the cab ride, and handed it to the clerk, who swiped it over a section of her holographic keyboard before handing it back to him. The holopanel in front of the clerk chimed, and text scrolled up the screen.

“OK sir,” the clerk said with a smile before she handed what looked like a tablet computer to him. “Here is a summary of preliminary charges. When you check out, leave this pad in your room and all charges will be finalized, with the balance being deducted from your credit. You and your companions are in room 420. The elevators are off to your left, Room Service is available 24 hours a day, and the door is keyed to your credit chit. All you have to do is swipe it, and the door will unlock for you. Do you have any additional questions for me?”

“Uhh, yes actually--do you know where the nearest grocery store is?”

“Yes, there’s a store about two hundred meters to your right and across the street, as you come out the door of the hotel. There’s also a list in your room of local eateries and shops, for your convenience. We also provide a complimentary extranet connection, if you choose to do your shopping from the comfort of your room.”

“Thank you, I’ll go check those out.” Sam smiled. “Thanks again...” he read the clerk’s name from her nametag, “...Luisa.”

“Thank you for choosing the Dockside, Mr. Dharma.” The clerk smiled and gave Sam a flirtatious wink.

Sam smiled. “Thanks again.” He took the pad and walked from the desk over to where Dean was sitting with a semi-conscious Castiel. “OK,” he remarked quietly. “We have a room.” He looked down at the pad. “And apparently my name is now Buck Dharma. Let’s go before somebody wonders what the hell we’re doing here.” Dean slowly turned his head to look up at Sam. His eyes were wide and the colour had drained from his face.

“Sammy,” he said quietly, “we are in a huge mess of crap.”


	2. Distant Early Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean try to get their bearings and see their first verified alien on the nightly news. Cas has a brief scare, Dean macks on a pie, and all hell breaks loose shortly after breakfast.

Dean helped Castiel get settled in one of the hotel room’s two beds. He removed the angel’s trench coat and draped it over a chair after trying to brush off some dirt, then slid his shoes off and prepared to throw the covers over him when he saw a slight smear of blood on Cas’ face. Dean sighed and went into the bathroom, wet a washcloth and brought it over to the bed. He gently cleaned his friend’s hands and face, then loosened his tie and pulled the covers up over him. “G’nite Cas. Talk to you when you wake up.”

“So,” Sam said, “You want to tell me what you found out?” He took his jacket off and threw it on the other bed before sitting at the table by the window.

“Well, it’s apparently the year 2186,” Dean said, standing and walking over to the table by the window, “and mankind is in space now. What we saw on the way in, that thing that looked like a crazy futuristic airplane? It’s an actual spaceship that goes to other planets, and there are ships that come here from other planets. I’m also trying to get my head around the fact that I flew—flew--in a car like some kind of Twilight Zone Jetsons episode.” He looked around at the room. The muted colour scheme of blues and greys was accented with occasional flashes of brown and forest green. The room also looked like it was geared for military customers, with holographic tent-cards offering “Shore Leave Discounts” at various local merchants, military corners on the beds, and decor that made Dean feel like he was in a Star Trek episode. “How’d you pay for this place, anyway?”

Sam fished the credit chit out of his pocket and set it the table. “This—the clerk called it a ‘credit chit’, so I’m guessing it’s like the 22nd-century version of a credit card. I found it on the ground by the cab stand at the park.” He picked up the chit and handed it to Dean so he could look it over. “I don’t know if it has a limit or anything, so I think we should kinda be careful with what we use it for.” Sam got up and walked over to the window, and looked outside.

Their room faced out on the harbour and the Cascades, affording them a lovely view of the mountains over the tops of apartment buildings that had grass and gardens on their roofs. Sam took a cursory survey of the storefronts on the streets below,  then went to take an inventory of the rest of the room. A mini-fridge next to the television was fully stocked with drinks whose labels he didn’t even recognize—some labels carried writing in strange scripts and pictograms, and a handful of the bottles had red tops emblazoned with the word DEXTRO.

Dean looked around the room again. “You see the remote anywhere? Does the TV even have a remote?” His eyes latched onto a device on the credenza that had buttons on it. He got up from the table and went over to pick it up. He touched a button, sitting on the bed as the TV sprang to life with a 2d holographic image of the talking head he watched downstairs, still reading stories while headlines crawled across the bottom of the screen. The newscaster started to read a story about an Alliance officer currently preparing to face an official inquiry into his involvement with a terrorist organization and his role in the death of three hundred thousand “Batarian” colonists, while Sam started reading the crawl:

BATARIAN HEGEMONY FALLS SILENT: BATARIAN REFUGEES IN EXODUS SYSTEM DESCRIBE BLOCKADE AND BOMBARDMENT OF KHAR’SHAN AT THE HANDS OF AN UNKNOWN ENEMY. ALLIANCE BRASS DECLINING COMMENT ON SITUATION BUT INSIST THERE ARE NO ALLIANCE OPERATIONS IN BATARIAN SPACE. SOURCES ON ARCTURUS STATION REPORT MOBILIZATION OF SECOND, FIFTH, AND SEVENTH FLEETS.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean quipped, “you make a better door than a window.” Sam sat down next to his brother on the unoccupied bed.

“Sorry,” he replied absently. The crawl went on to note that the refugees were blaming various entities—a group known as the Council, something called “rachni”, and the Alliance—and ended with a quote from a Batarian military commander: “I never thought I would say this to the human navy, but we need you.”

The brothers looked at each other. “Batarian--is that something like a Rastafarian? Maybe somebody burnt down their weed farms,” Dean cracked.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Sam commented, “and it looks like some serious crap is about to go down. Maybe we should find out what’s going on?”

“And what is it that we’re going to do, Sam? We don’t have any of our stuff, we don’t even know what "here" even is, and Cas is out cold for God only knows how long.”

“’m ok,” was the partially muffled reply from the other bed. “Talk t’me inna morn’n.” Castiel rolled over and curled up into a semi-fetal position, still clutching the spare pillow, mumbled something else, then went back to sleep.

Dean leaned forward a bit, and a picture of a bipedal creature with a hairless wrinkled head and four eyes, wearing what looked like a military uniform, popped on the screen over the talking head’s shoulder. The talking head started to expand on what had come across the crawl on the bottom of the screen. “Damn, that’s a Batarian?” Dean wrinkled his nose. “He looks like a demon crossed with something I saw in Purgatory.” He sat back and listened for a minute. “OK,” he finally said. “Say that something’s about to go down. What the hell can we do about it, when we can’t even go anywhere without that credit thing you found at the park?”

Sam grabbed his jacket and stood up. “Maybe we’re here to stop it, or to help stop it, or...something. I can’t see us getting thrown almost two hundred years into the future to this bizarro-world, without there being some kind of purpose behind it.” He put his jacket on and ran his hands through his brown hair. “OK, I tell you what--before it gets too much later, I’m going to see if I can find a library or a bookstore or something, maybe dig up some info that will help us get our bearings. Oh, and I don’t think the bottles in the mini-fridge with the red tops are meant for…well, us. Humans. So, don’t drink those.” He pulled on his jacket and walked to the door. “I’ll bring back pie.” He stopped, turned around, and came back to Dean. “Oh yeah, need the credit chit.” Dean handed the chit back to Sam, then sat back on the bed to watch the local news as Sam left the room.

Sam returned just after sunset with two bags containing an electronic pad like the one the desk clerk had given him, a couple of hard copy magazines, two round boxes of salt, a few bottles of water, and some random snacks. He set them down on the credenza with the credit chit. Dean was asleep on the second bed, an empty bottle next to him on the nightstand. Sam took a quick look at the bottle’s cap to make sure it wasn’t red, turned off the bedside light, and stretched out on the bed next to Dean with the reader device. He touched a button on the reader, and the translucent blue screen lit up.

“You get the pie?” Dean asked sleepily.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “It’s sitting on the table for you--hope you like raspberry, because that’s all they had. Also got a couple of magazines, found a grocery store and got some salt and some water...and this.” He held up the device. “The clerk at the newsstand I went to called it a datapad. He loaded it with a couple of guidebooks and a link to some sites on the extranet, which I’m guessing is what the Internet’s turned into. Said I could find a lot more info there.” Sam browsed a couple of entries on the datapad, then looked at the clock by the bed. “Here.” Sam laid the pad down on Dean’s pillow. “Feel free to browse. I’m going to get some shut-eye.” Dean reached behind his head and took the datapad, opened one eye and looked at it for a second, then set it down on the nightstand and went back to sleep.

 

Castiel opened his eyes, rolled over and sat up in the darkened hotel room. Sam and Dean were sound asleep on the other bed. The datapad sat on the nightstand, still powered on. Cas leaned over and picked it up, looked at the front and then the back, and touched the screen. The text zoomed in where he touched it. He touched it again, and the text zoomed out. He lay back on the bed, legs hanging over the side, and started to read. After several minutes of tapping, scrolling, and reading, the angel sat up and set the datapad down. He reached out toward Dean, intending to wake him, then looked at the bedside clock and saw the time: 0415.

The angel sighed--he knew there was no way he could wake either of the Winchesters at this hour. He stood and walked into the bathroom, the lights flickering on when he walked in. Castiel rubbed his stubbly jaw and scrunched up his face at the pasty feeling in his mouth.  He reached for a cup sitting next to the sink, filled it halfway with water, and rinsed his mouth out before realizing that he was also thirsty. He filled the cup and drank, then paused when he heard gurgling sounds coming from his stomach. His eyes went wide and he dropped the cup. Castiel quickly opened his shirt and looked down at his stomach, expecting to see it bulging ominously. Nothing happened, except another series of gurgles. “Oh wait,” he said with sudden realization. “I’m hungry.” He sighed with relief, and walked out of the bathroom and went to pick up the datapad from the bed again when he realized that he was also feeling the urge that had motivated him to go into the bathroom in the first place. He turned around and went back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

A gentle chime roused the sleeping Winchesters sometime after daybreak. Dean sat up and saw Castiel sitting at a table by the window, looking out on the Vancouver of 2186. “Good morning Dean,” Castiel said, looking to him briefly before looking back down to the streets of the city. “I went for a walk while you and Sam were sleeping, and discovered that there is a military installation within walking distance of the hotel. We may be able to procure equipment there, somehow.”

“Good recon Cas, thanks for...” Dean stopped when he saw a smear of purplish-red at the corner of Castiel’s mouth. He got up from the bed and walked over to his friend, reaching out and wiping the smear off with his index finger. He tasted it, then sat down with a look on his face that was equal parts sadness and outrage. “Dude--did you eat my pie?!”

Cas looked back at Dean. “Sorry,” he said. “I was hungry. I borrowed the credit chit and got you another one when I was out, it’s...right there on the credenza.” Cas indicated a small white box. “I asked for pecan,” he commented. “I seem to recall that being your favourite.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide. He sprang excitedly from his seat and scampered over to the credenza to pick up the box and bring it back to the table. “You, my friend, are a prince among angels.” He opened the box and carefully took out a miniature pecan pie, garnished with a small pouf of whipped cream and a tiny sprig of mint. “Ohhh look at you, my luscious pecan-y beauty,” he cooed, holding the pie in both hands. Dean set the treat down on the table and gazed at it like a treasure hunter looking at a priceless relic, his green eyes twinkling in the light from the lamp over the table.

“You going to eat that pie, Dean, or make love to it?” Sam sat up in bed, giving his brother a slightly amused look.

“You can’t rush perfection, Sammy.” Dean took a bite of the pie and slowly chewed with a look of sheer bliss on his face, a dot of whipped cream on his nose. The pie was a perfect combination of pecans and sugar and crunch and soft and flaky. He heard a chuckle and looked over at his brother with crumbs around his lips and a mouthful of pie. “Whu?”

Sam chuckled and got up out of bed. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Dean--finish your pie and get dressed so we can go have some actual breakfast.”

 

At noon, the trio left the hotel and walked down the street to check out the “military installation” that Castiel spoke of. They stood outside the gate at a giant dock, where one ship was berthed under heavy guard. The warship arced forward from swept-back wings, with protrusions on the nose that jutted forth like stabbing mandibles. The word NORMANDY was emblazoned on the side, and the ship’s hull was painted in a blue-and-white paint scheme with a logo on each wing that looked like a stylized A over the planet Earth. Sam and Dean looked at each other and nodded appreciatively. Castiel took a look around, then started to walk forward.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?!” A soldier in a suit of navy carapace-like bodyarmour walked out and put a hand on Castiel’s chest, and several more levelled assault rifles in his direction. “You can’t be in here--do you have a pass?”

“Oh crap...” Sam ran forward. “Wait!” he called. “He’s with me. He’s heard so much about the...”

“...Normandy,” Cas said.

“--Normandy, and he wanted to come and see the, uh, the legend for himself.” A few of the soldiers snickered at that. “We’re sorry to bother you. OK Cas, let’s go,” Sam quickly shepherded Castiel away from the knot of soldiers and back out to the street. “Cas, what were you thinking?” he whispered as he and Dean hustled the angel away from the gates and back to their hotel. “They have guns, all we have is the salt I got at that grocery store we went to, and from what you told us while packing away all those pancakes at breakfast, you still don’t have your mojo.”

“I’m a baby in a trenchcoat,” Cas deadpanned with a slightly pained expression.

“Well I wouldn’t call you that,” Dean quipped.

“You did, Dean.” The angel snarked. “Twice when we were going to confront Eve, and once more after Metatron stole my grace. But I suppose you’re right. Bullets wouldn’t feel very...” The three of them looked up as the sky darkened and they heard a rumbling of thunder accompanied by a metallic groan. Red lightning flashed in the clouds. Suddenly a gigantic black ship descended out of the dark clouds, wreathed in red static and spreading out five enormous legs. A red beam of energy shot out from the ship as it landed, making the ground shake, and burned its way along the ground toward the hotel and a large building on the other side of the docks. The front of the hotel exploded in flame and showers of glass, followed by large fireballs that vanished in small blast-waves as they hit the street, leaving wiry grey-skinned humanoid zombies and lumpy potbellied creatures in their wake. The zombies began running toward a group of people that had come running out of the burning hotel and leaped on them, biting and clawing. The lumpies shambled across the street toward an apartment building, firing at fleeing residents with cannons that took the place of their right arms.

Dean reached behind his back and drew his demon-killing knife from its scabbard. Castiel pulled two angel blades from his trenchcoat and handed one to Sam. A trio of the grey zombies let out a metallic shriek and started to run toward them with an ungainly loping gait, finally affording the hunters their first good look at them. Strange blue veining ran over their bodies, and they each had a glowing blue roundel in their torsos. Their eyes also glowed blue, and their skin looked dessicated and wrinkled, their clawed hands and feet black as if burned.

Castiel lashed out and stabbed one of the zombies in the neck, which seemed only to encourage it. The zombie jumped on the angel, who frantically stabbed at the creature while trying to wrestle him with his free arm. He finally managed to work the zombie off of him and throw it to the ground, where Dean stomped on its head, smashing it like an overripe melon.

Sam ducked when another zombie leapt at him, then quickly spun around to grab it by one leg and swing it against a lamppost. The impact broke the zombie in half. Sam looked at the half a body in his hands, then immediately swung it around again to shatter the remaining half of the zombie against a shambler that was trying to attack Dean. The shambler’s skin was brownish and burnt-looking, like an overdone roast. Like the zombies, it also had blue glowing eyes--four of them--and a glowing blue roundel on its distended belly. Sam looked at its right arm, and saw a pair of eyes and a tormented human face staring back at him from the thing’s shoulder. “Holy Mother of Crap!”

Dean, Sam, and Cas ran down the street and stopped, standing with their backs to each other when they saw more zombies and shamblers slowly advancing toward them from several directions. The shamblers raised their right arms and opened fire. A shot grazed Dean’s right leg, tearing his pants. The brothers grabbed Castiel, and ran back into the docks enclosure. Sam got out one of the boxes of salt that they bought the day before, and emptied it in a line across the entrance of the docks. The zombies loped across the line without effort, and the shamblers shuffled over the salt, arm cannons still firing. The brothers looked at each other, then at Castiel, and then all three of them looked at the ship parked in the dock. They ran toward the gangway stairs and took them two at a time before diving through the open doors on the side. The doors closed behind them. 


	3. Get Your Ass To Mars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Milky Way meets Team Free Will.

**Captain's Loft**

_**SSV** _ **Normandy**

 

“Shepard,” EDI paged, “We have stowaways.”

“Oh?” The only illumination in the room came from the aquarium along the port-side wall. EDI’s camera showed only a faint outline of Shepard’s features. “Do we have an ID on them? Where are they?”

“They are human, and currently in the shuttle bay. Lieutenant Vega is investigating, but it seems that they are civilians who managed to stow away during our escape.”

Shepard shrugged, wincing slightly when the left shoulder plate of his hardsuit bit into him through his under armour. “Vega and Kaidan can handle it. What’s our ETA to Mars?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Thanks.” Shepard stood up and walked toward the door to his quarters. He paused and reached up to pet a small black cat perched on the edge of a shelf above his desk. “Be good while I’m out, okay little buddy?” The cat let out a soft trill and nuzzled Shepard’s hand in response.

 

**Half an hour earlier...**

In the confusion surrounding the Normandy’s departure from Earth, the Winchesters and Castiel managed to slip past most of the crew and get on an elevator. One person had stopped them, a petite English brunette with deep brown skin and eyes. The trio gave her the excuse that they were a civilian oversight group that had been preparing for an inspection when the attack started, and she helpfully directed them to the ship’s armory. The armory turned out to be a complete bust for them--the weaponry was a mystery, with switches and knobs and glowy bits. And it was collapsible, which Dean discovered to his chagrin when the butt-end of an assault rifle popped out and hit him in the eye while he was examining it.

When they heard the elevator coming down, the three of them quickly stashed the guns, vaulted over a railing and ducked behind a group of crates in one corner. A couple of armoured Marines came out of the elevator and grabbed weapons from the armory, led by a dark-haired olive-skinned man with a pretty face and brown eyes wearing blue fatigues. He was joined by a muscle-bound brown-skinned guy in a tight grey t-shirt and fatigue pants. They each grabbed a rifle from the armory, uncollapsed it, and popped in what looked like a clip of some kind before running for the back. A large loading door opened up, and the Marines started to lay down fire. They saw another man in fatigues leap aboard, assisted by the dark-haired man in blue. The new guy talked to somebody outside the ship briefly before walking back into the cargo bay as the door closed.

The group of soldiers started to walk back. “Hey!” the musclebound soldier called out.

“We’re leaving,” the new arrival said over his shoulder, still walking toward the elevator. He was well-built, with deep-set dark blue-green eyes, thick short black hair, and a square jaw with a slight pout that made him look like he had an underbite.

“Leaving?!” Muscles had an incredulous look on his face. He had several scars on his face, his hair was cut in a mohawk-like crewcut, and he had a cross-hatch tattoo that looked like it went from the right side of his neck down to just above his right elbow.

“Anderson wants us to go to the Citadel, get help for the fight.” Muscles started to protest, only to be cut short by New Guy. “ENOUGH!” New Guy roared, stabbing Muscles in the chest with a finger. “Don’t you think I want to stay and fight?! We’re going to the Citadel--if you want off, you can catch a ride back from there.” Muscles made a “Whatever” gesture and started to walk back toward some kind of workbench, and New Guy said something to Pretty Boy on his way to the elevator. New Guy stopped and turned back after getting a hail over the ship’s PA system, and started talking to somebody through a lot of static.

“What are they talking about?” Sam whispered. Castiel tilted his head to the right, a look of concentration on his face.

“We’re going to Mars,” he whispered after several minutes. “Perhaps this Citadel is there.”

“Then maybe we can get some answers,” replied Sam. He looked down at Dean’s leg. “And get that leg looked at.” He heard footsteps, what sounded like a door sliding open and closed, rustling, clanking and muffled conversation, followed a few minutes later by the door sliding open and closed again, more footsteps and murmuring. “Do you think they’re looking for us?”

“I don’t know,” Dean replied. Their answer came when they heard the cocking of a shotgun’s slide.

“Come on out, hands up.” Dean popped his head around the corner of a crate and saw Muscles standing there wearing a suit of heavy black armour and pointing a wide-mouthed pistol-grip shotgun in his general direction. “All three of you,” Muscles said menacingly. “Any sudden moves from you _pendejos_ , and Esteban over there will let his twitchy trigger-finger do the talking.” He jerked his head back over his shoulder to indicate a dark-skinned blue-eyed man with a neatly trimmed goatee levelling an assault rifle in their direction.

Dean slowly limped out, hands over his head, followed by Sam.

“Where’s your compadre?” Muscles asked.

“It’s just us,” Dean lied, wincing in pain. “No compadres here, Crunch. Uhh, look. We’re not exactly armed to the teeth, so I think it’s OK to put the gun down.” Muscles nodded in their direction, and Esteban came over and started to pat them down. He took Dean’s demon-killing knife and Sam’s angel blade, tossing them to the deck after holding them up and fixing Dean with a nonplussed look. “Oh come on,” Dean protested, “Who in their right mind really thinks they have a chance with a knife in a gunfight?” Esteban gave him a slight shove and pulled Dean’s 1911 Colt out of his waistband.

“Quiet,” Muscles snarled.

Esteban ejected the clip on the pistol and cleared the round that was in the chamber before tossing both to the deck, then kept searching them--he went through the brothers’ jackets and pants pockets and tossed out a dozen lockpicks, the Winchesters’ hunter’s diary, a spare clip for Dean’s 9mm, their wallets, an assortment of fake IDs and credit cards with different names on them, Sam’s credit chit, a bottle of water, a small round box of salt, and a handful of 20th-century coins and bills. He got to the wound on Dean’s right leg and pulled his hand back. It was covered in blood. Dean looked down and saw a large reddish blotch on his pants around where he’d been grazed by the shambler.

“This man’s been shot, Mr. Vega. He’ll need some medical attention.” Esteban looked up at Dean’s black eye. “Make that more medical attention.”

Castiel slid out from behind the other side of the crate when Muscles and Esteban were searching Sam and Dean. He quietly moved to a darkened corner of the room, by a set of what looked like lockers, and got out his angel blade. Pretty Boy was standing with his back to Cas, reaching into a locker to fish out a bright blue helmet to match the armour he was wearing. Cas crept up behind the soldier and got ready to grab him when a blue sheen bloomed around Pretty Boy, who spun around and clobbered Castiel upside the head with his helmet in one movement before quickly disarming the angel and dumping him on the deck. Castiel’s head swam from the impact. He felt himself being picked up by the shirt-collar and dragged out to the main part of the bay.

“Here’s the third one,” Pretty Boy said as he dumped Castiel on the deck. He held up the angel blade. “He had this on him.” He held it out hilt-first toward Esteban. “Lieutenant Cortez, secure this if you would please.” Cortez took the blade from Pretty Boy, stepped back and picked up the other two blades from the deck along with the other items he had removed from the Winchesters, then walked over to a locker. An orange doughnut of light popped up over Cortez’s left hand along with what looked like a cuff of some kind, and he waved his hand over the locker. The torus blinked a few times, and the locker popped open. Cortez put everything inside and closed the locker, then re-secured it. He turned back to Pretty Boy and started to say something when the elevator opened and New Guy walked out wearing a suit of dark-grey armour with red and white striping down the right shoulder and arm. An emblem on the left breast of the armour read N7. He had a pistol on his hip and what looked like the barrel of a shotgun peeked out from around his waist.

“So,” New Guy said. “These are our stowaways.” Muscles had gotten Sam and Dean down on their knees, hands on their heads, a bloodied and dazed Castiel slumped on the deck next to them in Pretty Boy’s grip. New Guy walked out to the middle of the cargo bay and looked at Castiel for a moment. “Major Alenko,” he jibed at Pretty Boy, “When did you start playing rough?”

“He was armed, Commander.” Alenko nodded toward Cortez and the secured locker. “Tried to sneak up on me with a knife--I had Cortez secure it.”

“We’re in orbit around Mars, Shepard.” A man’s voice sounded over the PA.

“Thanks, Joker.” Shepard looked at Castiel again, then at the Winchesters. “Who are you?”

“...not from around here?” Dean quipped. His leg was seriously starting to hurt now that the adrenalin of their flight from Earth was wearing off. Shepard fixed him with a steely glare in response and frowned slightly.

“Try again.”

“Sorry … Commander, right?” Sam hastily interjected. “My brother, he’s--look, I’m Sam Winchester. This is my brother, Dean. And Major...Alenko, right? He’s holding Castiel. Seriously, we’re really not from around here. It’s a really...really long story.”

“Yeah,” Dean commented. “We were kinda on the run from some weird zombie-type things, shamblers with guns for arms, and a giant angry robot that was shooting some kind of big red death ray out its ass. Face. Whatever. Look, I can tell that you really don’t want us here, so why don’t you give us our stuff back and let us off on Mars, and we can hitchhike back, ok?”

“I do not advise that, gentlemen.” A pleasant female voice came over the comm. “Mars’ atmosphere is only one percent that of Earth’s, and the Reapers have invaded the Sol system. Shepard, the best place to put them is in the Medbay, particularly since two of them are injured. I’ve secured the door to the AI Core, so they will not be able to access my vital systems.”

“Reapers?” Dean and Sam looked at each other, eyes wide, then looked back at Shepard. “Those are not any Reapers that I’ve ever seen.”

Shepard arched an eyebrow. “You know something I don’t, Mr. Winchester?” Behind him, Muscles and Alenko moved to train their guns on the trio.

“I think,” Dean said, putting his hands out for a moment, and then immediately raising them again when Muscles pointed his shotgun at him, “that we’re thinking of different things, because the Reapers that the three of us know all dress like funeral directors and work for a long-faced dude who likes cheap food and hates being bossed around by angels. Those things on Earth, those are some kind of wild-ass Robo-zombies.”

Shepard looked at Dean for a long moment and narrowed his eyes. “Lieutenant Cortez,” he finally said, “Escort our “guests” to the Medbay, if you would.” He looked back at the Winchesters. “I’ll deal with them when we’re done at the Archives.”


	4. Blue Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard gets to know Team Free Will a bit better and is not impressed, and the guys come face to face with their first "in the flesh" alien. Dean falls off a bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to exercise a touch of artistic licence in this story by having Shepard talk to his mother early on (and he'll talk to her again later), and also by carrying on the old maritime tradition of a ship's cat (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ship's_cat) instead of having Boo the Space Hamster. I love Boo, but Shepard just seems to be more a cat person to me for some reason.

Cortez and two Marines escorted the three stowaways to the elevator for the ride to the crew deck and the medbay. Cas rubbed his head and muttered, “I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train.” 

Dean patted him on the back. “You’ll be okay,” he said reassuringly. 

“I more than likely have a concussion, Dean. I don’t think I’ll be very “okay” for a while.” Cas grimaced at the pain. “Sorry--my head hurts.”

“It’s cool Cas, I understand.” The pain in Dean’s leg had gotten worse. He shifted his weight, wincing, and looked down to see where his baggy jeans had been burned through. “Dammit, these were my favourite pants.”

Sam kept his mouth shut and did his best to keep from trying to scratch at an itch that had taken up residence between his shoulder blades. The group got off the elevator and came face to face with a wall that had 21 names on it. Sam looked at the wall for a moment, then asked, “What’s this for?”

“Memorial wall,” one of the Marines--his armour had the name CARRINGTON stamped on the left shoulder--said solemnly. “Ashley Williams sacrificed herself on Virmire to help stop a rogue Spectre. The rest died when the first Normandy got blown to shit by the Collectors. Francis and I were both there," he nodded toward the other Marine. "She and I knew them all. So did Shepard.” Sam nodded in acknowledgement. 

Carrington stood next to the door when they got into the starkly-lit medbay. Cortez pointed to one of the four beds toward the back of the room. “Drop ‘em and get up there so I can fix up your leg, please. Corporal Francis,” he said over his shoulder to the second Marine, “Tend to Mister Castiel’s head if you would.” 

Castiel grimaced as Corporal Francis started to clean his head wound. "Hold still," the slightly-built Marine said. "I need to get you cleaned up so I can fix you up." Only the lower half of her face was visible under the visor of her helmet, but her tone of voice made clear that she was not about to brook any resistance.

Across the medbay, Dean raised the brow over his unblackened eye and gestured to the wide Medbay windows and the scattering of people staring at them from some kind of common area. “Do I get a percentage if I put on a good show for the crowd?" he asked Cortez. "Dollar bills stuffed in my waistband? Drinks in the Champagne Room, perhaps?”

Cortez gave Dean a very unimpressed look. “You get proper first aid without me having to cut up your favourite pants. Now hop to it.” Dean rolled his eyes and removed his shoes and jeans, then got up on one of the medbay beds and carefully stretched his injured leg out. Cortez reached out and a gauntlet of light like the one the Vancouver cop used popped up on his hand before he ran it over the injury. Dean felt something cool and wet on his skin that made the burning fade, and looked down to see the sheen of a jelly-like substance covering the wound on his leg. Cortez tipped Dean’s head up and said "Close your eye please." Dean did as he was asked, and he felt his eyesocket start to tingle, making him shiver involuntarily. A few seconds later, Cortez stepped back. "OK, you're good. Try to keep the eye closed for a few minutes."

Dean looked back down at his leg. “Damn--what is that stuff? It looks like K-Y.” Dean reached down to poke at his wound, but Cortez gently brushed his hand away.

“Medi-gel,” he said. “Don’t mess with it. Just let it do its work, and you’ll be fine. You can put your pants on again, by the way.” He left the medbay with the Marines. A hologram of some sort popped up over the door at the back of the room and turned red. Sam sat down on the floor next to the locked back door and sighed.

“Could be worse, I guess.” He ran a hand through his hair while Dean put his jeans and shoes on again.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “It could be. At least they’re not being total dicks--for what it’s worth.” He laced up his shoes and sat on the bed with his arms on his knees, then looked down and shook his head. “You know, I don’t get it. Why is it that lately, whenever we go to Bobby’s for anything, something seriously jacked-up happens to us? First there was Balthazar sending us to that bizarro-world where we were actors in a TV show, then there was Edgar the Leviathan, and now, after getting jumped by demons, we’re suddenly stuck in some Futurama reject where zombies from space have invaded Earth, there are four-eyed demonic-looking aliens, and we’re on a spaceship orbiting Mars.”

“We could have an archangel’s hitman chasing us again,” Sam offered somewhat helpfully. He got up from the floor and walked around the medbay briefly before coming back to his companions. There was a desk and a computer on one side of the front part of the room, and a counter and some cabinets on the other side. “You know," he said, standing in the middle of the room, "for a ship’s sickbay you’d think that this would be more...I dunno, futuristic-looking. More Star Trek and less Doctor Sexy, M.D.”

"Move!" Sam jumped and darted back toward the back of the medbay at the sound of Vega's voice when the door opened behind him, and the three hunters froze when they saw a woman come rushing in with Shepard and Vega. Instead of hair, she had ridges that arched back over her head like waves. She had blue skin with light-blue freckles, ocean-blue eyes, and what looked like gills where her ears should have been. “She’s...” Sam started to whisper to Dean.

“...blue,” Dean whispered back. “And, uh...kinda cute.” She was wearing a white suit, trimmed with blue.

Commander Shepard had come in just ahead of her with an unconscious Major Alenko across his shoulders, and gently laid him on the bed. Shepard looked down at him, his stance showing worry. “Kaidan needs medical attention,” Blue Lady said urgently, bending down to make eye contact with Shepard. “We have to leave the Sol system. I’ll do what I can for him, but the sooner we get to the Citadel, the better his chances are.”

Shepard looked up for a moment. “Joker, set a course for the Citadel.” He looked back down at Kaidan. “See what you and Edie can find out from that thing,” Shepard said to Blue Lady, pointing to what looked like an immolated mannequin that Lieutenant Vega had unceremoniously dropped onto another bed before walking out. 

“Commander,” the pleasant female voice said over the medbay’s intercom, “Admiral Hackett is on the secondary Q-E-C for you.” Shepard sprinted out of the medbay, leaving Blue Lady to tend to Kaidan.

“I could use some help,” she said to the trio standing at the back of the medbay. The three of them looked at each other for a long moment before Sam stepped forward. “In that cabinet there,” she said to him, “you should find a field trauma kit. It’s marked with a red cross.” Blue Lady pointed to a cabinet just past Sam’s left shoulder. Sam turned and dug through the cabinet until he found what she was talking about. He grabbed the object and handed it to her. She opened it and took a syringe out of it, then injected something into the side of Kaidan’s neck. “Here,” she said, “help me get his armour off.” Blue Lady guided Sam through undoing the clasps and seals on Kaidan’s armour. Dean and Castiel came over and took the armour pieces as Sam and Blue Lady removed them, setting them on an unoccupied bed. When they had him stripped to his underwear, Blue Lady reached into the kit and removed an object that she gently attached to Kaidan’s forehead.

“What is that?” Sam asked.

“It’s a device that will stop any cranial bleeding.” Blue Lady looked up at Sam. “And I’ve given him a mild painkiller.” She sighed and scratched her forehead. “He should be stable, but he still needs a hospital.” Blue Lady looked over to the mannequin, then back at the newcomers. “I need to move this into the AI Core,” she said. She picked up the mannequin and carrying it toward the back of the medbay. “I’ll need you to move well away from the door, please.”

The hologram on the door to the AI Core turned from red to green, and the door opened. The room was lined with some kind of hardware that glowed blue, and a small touch panel sat to one side. Blue Lady laid the mannequin down on a bench at the back of the room, and the air shimmered when she stepped away from it. She walked out of the little room, and the door slid shut behind her and locked. “I suppose I should introduce myself,” she said after a few seconds. “Dr. Liara T’soni. Archaeologist.”

The hunters looked at her in stunned silence for a moment before Dean tentatively extended his hand. “Dean...Dean Winchester. This is my brother Sam, and that’s Castiel in the trench coat. We’re, uh....”

“...not from around here,” Liara replied with a slight smile, shaking their hands in turn. Her grip was firm, and they felt a faint tingle of static. “Shepard gave me highlights, though he didn’t give me your names. I wish I had more time to chat, but I need to make a presentation to the Council as soon as we dock at the Citadel.” She turned and walked out of the room. Sam and Dean watched through the medbay windows as the blue woman walked across the mess area and disappeared around a corner. Several minutes later, Shepard walked in and pulled up a chair next to Kaidan’s bed. He was out of his armour now, and dressed in black-and-grey fatigues.

“Have a seat,” he said, sitting down and crossing his arms in front of him, his back to the door of the medbay. The Winchesters pulled up chairs, but Castiel remained standing. “Now, somebody I care for a great deal is hanging on by a thread thanks to that _thing_ that’s currently in the AI Core--so I am not feeling very patient or charitable right now. The only reason why you’re not in the ship’s brig is because you needed medical attention, and you helped Liara when she asked for it. So, I’m going to ask questions,” Shepard said in a slightly menacing tone. “and I want answers--truthful answers." A scar along the edge of the right side of Shepard's jaw glowed faintly red. "You’ll give them to me, or I _will_ have the Marines standing outside this Medbay shoot all three of you in both knees, then take you to the garbage disposal unit on Deck Four and space you as little cubes of meat. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” Sam and Dean replied in unison. Shepard looked at Castiel, eyebrow arched.

“And you?”

“I understand,” Castiel said.

Shepard looked back to Kaidan, blue-green eyes burning with barely-controlled anger. “First question: How did you get on the Normandy?”

“We were walking down the street,” Castiel said, “when a ship of some kind landed, and several fireballs fell from the sky in front of us. We were attacked by zombies with guns. Dean was injured, and we ran to the Normandy when the salt didn’t hold back the monsters we were attempting to elude.”

“Salt.” Shepard deadpanned.

“Yes.”

“Really.” Shepard looked at Castiel as if the angel had just sprouted three extra pairs of legs. 

“Yes.”

“Let me guess--you offered them a steak?”

“No,” Castiel said with great seriousness. “We laid the salt down in a line on the ground, a “barrier” if you will, that was meant to prevent the advance of these “Reapers” that were attacking us.” To punctuate the words “barrier” and “Reapers”, Castiel wiggled his fingers in the air to indicate quotation marks.

Shepard looked at Cas with an expression of incredulity. “You’re serious?” the angel's expression didn’t change. Shepard shook his head and looked up toward the ceiling. “You’re serious,” he sighed. “Okay, I’ll bite." He looked back to Castiel "What possessed you to think that salt would work on husks and cannibals?”

Dean piped up. “Well y’see Commander, there’s no other way to explain this--but my brother and I, we’re hunters. We, uhh...” Dean’s voice died when Shepard started to get up out of his seat, fists balled. His knuckles were white, the muscles in his neck tensed. A faint blue sheen sprang up on the Commander’s skin.

“Who are you working for?” Shepard’s voice was a threatening near-whisper, and his scar flared bright red. “Did Cerberus send you?”

Dean’s eyes widened a bit. “Who?”

Sam jumped in when he saw a few bluish sparks crackle over Shepard. “Whoa--nobody sent us! We’re not working for anybody, I swear. And Cas is telling the truth--one minute we were in South Dakota clearing out an old friend’s house, and we got jumped...”

“...by demons,” Castiel interjected. Shepard arched an eyebrow, but didn’t move.

“Go on,” he said, looking Sam right in the eye.

Sam continued, “...we were fighting, there was a flash of light, I felt somebody shoving me in the back and heard breaking glass, and the next thing we knew, we literally hit the ground in Vancouver and it was 173 years later.” He took a deep breath. “Look, I know this sounds absolutely crazy, but I promise you that we are telling the truth. Dean and I hunt monsters,” Sam stated. “Demons, vampires, werewolves, rugaru, the whole thing. Where we’re from...they’re all real. And Cas, here, he’s an angel. Or at least, that’s what he is where we’re from.”

“Do you have a base of operations?” Shepard queried, very slowly sitting down. His tone was flat. A scar along his jawline flared an angry red underneath the bluish glow that covered him.

The brothers looked at each other for a moment. “Our Batcave's in Lebanon, Kansas,” Dean said. “But we go wherever the job takes us...as long as we can get there in our Impala.” Shepard arched his eyebrow again. “Our ‘67 Chevy Impala,” Dean stated. “Car. Takes gasoline, has tires? Badass?”

“Right. So let me see if I understand this.” Shepard said disbelievingly as he sat back, extending his legs and crossing his arms across his chest again. “You and your brother are from the year 2013. You drive around North America in an internal combustion engine vehicle, hunting monsters. And you,” he said, pointing to Castiel, “are an angel.”

“Yes,” Castiel said.

“Who helps them hunt monsters.”

After a long pause, Castiel replied, “Yes.”

Shepard sighed and the blue sheen faded from him. He held his head in his hands for a moment, looking down toward his feet, and shook his head. “Join the Navy, Mom said,” he muttered to himself. “See the galaxy, she said.” He looked up. “I don’t know whether to laugh at your obvious disconnect from reality, or just space the three of you and be done with it.” He sat back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “OK, say that you’re telling the truth. I’ll just go ahead and assume that you are, since I have no way to prove otherwise. You’re still civilians. This is a Warship, and I can’t let you stay here. You tell me that you help people, so you’ll do more good helping the refugees that are going to be heading to the Citadel.”

“Fair enough,” Dean said. “Though we’re not exactly the, uh, civilian type.”

The doors to the Medbay opened before the Commander could say another word. “Shepard,” Liara said, “we’re preparing to dock at the Citadel. And I wanted to talk to you privately for a moment.” She turned and went toward the other side of the mess, then vanished around a corner.

Shepard slowly stood and walked toward the door. “I'll have your items returned to you when you're off the ship. Be ready to go when I come back,” he shot back over his shoulder as the door opened. He stepped through, and the door swooshed shut behind him.

The silence in the Medbay was tempered by the steady breathing of the unconscious Marine on one of the medbay beds. Dean hopped up on an empty bed in the medbay. He looked down at his injured leg and poked at it through the bloody hole in his pants. The wound was closed now, pink and slightly puckered like a healed cut whose scab just fell off. “Damn,” he said to Sam, who had come over to gawk. “Almost good as new. What did they say that stuff was that they put on it?”

“Medi-Gel,” Sam said. “He must have put some on your face too, because your shiner’s just about gone.”

While the brothers were talking, Castiel walked over to Kaidan and gently rested his hand on the side of the man’s face. He concentrated for a moment, then opened his eyes and looked down to see, to his disappointment, that Kaidan still lay there battered and unconscious. Dean heard a sigh and looked up from where he and Sam were marvelling at the quick healing of Dean’s leg. “What’s wr--” The words died in Dean’s throat when he saw his friend’s crestfallen look and drooping shoulders. He looked over to the still-unconscious Kaidan, then looked back to his friend and patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Cas. I know that you’d help him if you were able to.”

Castiel sat down in a chair. “I feel a little useless,” he said. “Like a third wheel--and not the helpful kind, that provides extra stability and--”

“Stop that, Cas.” Sam pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. “So you don’t have your angel-mojo--big deal. You can still fight. You still know stuff that nobody else does.”

“Yeah Cas,” Dean said. “You’re also family--and family sticks together.” He leaned over to pat Castiel on the shoulder, but the shift in his centre of gravity caused Dean to lose his balance and fall off the bed. “Aaagh!”

From the mess area, Shepard and Liara watched the trenchcoated man walk over to Kaidan. Shepard started back toward the Medbay, but Liara grabbed his arm. “Wait,” she said. “I want to see what he does. If he hurts Kaidan, I promise I’ll put him in a Stasis field and let you have free shots at him.” They watched as he reached out and laid a hand on the side of Kaidan’s face, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened his eyes and sighed, shoulders falling in disappointment, before turning to go back to Sam and Dean. They watched as Dean looked up at him, then back to Kaidan, then comfort his friend.

Liara looked at her friend.

“Shepard, clearly they want to help, and you left Earth without a full crew complement. Perhaps...”

Shepard stood with his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Liara, they’re civilians. Not only that, but they’re untrained to the point of being clueless. EDI told me on my way to the shuttle bay that the ringleader of that group gave himself a black eye when he couldn’t figure out how to open up an M-8 Avenger--and I swear I heard her giggle. An Avenger, the most basic rifle in the galaxy and something that recruits learn to use their second day of basic training, and those flannel-wearing fools couldn’t even figure out how to open it up without hurting themselves.”

“Shepard...” Liara put a hand on his shoulder. “Do you remember an untrained civilian that you brought onto the Normandy three years ago? I seem to recall that she almost shot herself in the foot a couple of times with a Kessler pistol.” Shepard looked at her pointedly. “Make them irregulars,” the asari continued, “attached to the Normandy.” They looked up when they heard a loud yelp from the medbay, and saw Dean lose his balance and fall off the bed he was perched on. Liara put a hand over her mouth in an attempt to suppress a laugh at the surprised expression on his face.”If nothing else, they could make life more entertaining.”

Shepard scratched his brow for a moment. “Let me think about it,” he said. “I guess I should get ready to talk to the Council, huh?” Liara patted him on the shoulder and nodded, a slight smile on her face. “Thanks for the cat treats by the way,” he said. “Joker tells me Ninja expects them every time he comes into my quarters now. If you need help setting up, let me know.”

“I’ve got it covered, Stannis, but thank you.” Liara turned and walked into her quarters, leaving Shepard alone in the Normandy’s mess. He shook his head and walked toward the elevator. On the ride to his quarters, his Omni-Tool pinged.

“Shepard,” EDI said. “Should I make arrangements for our guests to find accomodation on the Citadel?” Shepard leaned back against the side wall of the elevator and looked up at the ceiling, eyes closed.

“No, EDI. I’ll think of something.” He sighed. “I assume you overheard my conversation with Liara?”

“I find them quite fascinating--but then, I am not the commander of the Normandy.” After a slight pause, EDI added, “By the way, _Admiral_ Shepard would like you to give her a call to let her know that you made it off-planet in relative safety.” The elevator stopped at its destination, but the doors didn’t open. “Would you like me to take you back down to the CIC so you can contact her?”

Shepard opened his eyes. “No thanks, EDI. I’ll call her from my quarters.”

The elevator doors opened. “Of course, Shepard. Joker would also like me to let you know that the cat treats are in your top right desk drawer.”

Shepard chuckled a bit. “Thanks, EDI--remind me to find some way to thank Joker for taking care of the little guy for me, by the way.” He opened the doors and stepped inside, scooping up his cat. “Hey there, little Ninja.” The cat trilled and settled down in Shepard’s arms as he sat down at his desk. A couple minutes later, his mother’s face popped up on the holoscreen in front of him.

“Stannis?” Hannah Shepard smiled. Her dark hair was tied back in a tight bun under her Admiral’s cap, a few crinkly silver strands sneaking out to frame her round face and hazel eyes. “Oh, thank God you’re okay, son.”

Shepard fished out the packet of cat treats from his desk and put a few on the desktop before depositing Ninja there and leaning in a little closer to the holoscreen.“Hi Mom. I managed to escape Vancouver--Anderson and Hackett have me going to the Citadel to try to get help.” Shepard paused for a moment. “Uhh, listen Mom--this will sound like a really odd request, but...”


	5. Roll The Bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard takes a chance on Team Free Will, who wind up having to clean up another mess.

Thane listened intently as Shepard described the three strangers currently cooling their heels on the Normandy. The Drell sat forward with his elbows on his knees and his eyes closed, taking in every detail that his human friend gave him about what they told him how they came to be on the Normandy and what their origins were. He smiled and let out a soft chuckle when Shepard told him about the incident with Dean and the medbay bed.

"They had this with them," Shepard said. He held out the leather-bound journal. "Along with some other artifacts that look like they belong in a museum. It looks like they have some pretty detailed notes about things that I don't even understand." Thane took the diary and started to page through it. "What do you think?" Shepard asked.

Thane read through several entries in the journal while Shepard watched him. “This journal," he said, "looks like something that was handed down, father to sons. It hints at many strange and dark things, and it certainly paints a very grim picture of their world." He reached one entry and rubbed his chin, then started to read it. "One of the brothers has written in here about striving against cosmic forces that seemed to be conspiring against mortals--humanity, specifically. But from what I've read, aside from the monsters that they claim to fight against, it seems that they know no other species than humans--so we may be able to rule out Cerberus involvement. The three of them are, therefore, an unknown quantity.” Thane looked up from the diary. “Nobody knows who they are, they have no records, and a credit chit is untraceable no matter what name may be associated with it.” He smiled slightly and closed the diary, then handed it back to Shepard. “In a way, these three can be the most valuable weapons in your arsenal. They are nameless and faceless, so they can be your eyes and ears--more importantly, they are free of any pre-existing prejudices that somebody from this world may have. That may prove very useful in the coming days. I suggest giving them a chance to prove themselves--but I also get the feeling that you had your mind made up before coming to talk to me.”

“You’re right, Thane.” He and the drell stood and shook hands and exchanged a warm hug. “And thanks for hearing me out. I wish the best for you, my friend.”

“And I for you, Shepard. Perhaps we can keep up via the extranet.” Shepard smiled and went to speak to Dr. Chakwas and Dr. Michel at the far end of the lobby. Both doctors doubled over laughing at the second-hand tale of Dean giving himself a black eye with the Avenger rifle and falling off of the exam bed in the medbay. 

“Oh Shepard,” Chakwas said in between chortles, “Please tell me you have room for me aboard the Normandy. I like my work in R&D, but I feel so deprived of entertainment--and I do miss that ship.” Shepard cracked a smile and told Dr. Chakwas to get her gear and report to the Normandy, before turning to go into the patient wing. He quietly sat at Kaidan’s bedside, holding his hand, until his Omni-Tool pinged with a text from Liara reminding him to meet with the Council. After giving Kaidan’s hand a gentle squeeze and whispering words of encouragement to him, he left for the Embassy ward.

 

Vega came to get the Winchesters and Castiel out of the medbay when he, Shepard, and Liara got back from the Citadel. “Come on, man. Time to get you some new digs.” He led them down to the engineering deck and showed them to what amounted to a crawl space under the stairs where three cots had been set up in a u-shape. “It’s a little cozy, but it’s the best place we could put you. Loco wants you three to get fitted too, once you’re settled in.”

“Fitted?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Vega grinned. “For hardsuits. Hopefully you don’t cut off anything important or crush your _cojones_ or something when trying them on.” He chuckled and went back up the stairs, and Dean turned to Sam and Cas.

“Am I ever going to live that gun thing down?!” he asked. “I mean, come on, who hasn’t had a mishap like that?!”

Sam and Cas looked at each other, then back at Dean. “Not us,” they shot back in unison, barely able to contain grins. Sam took his jacket off and laid it over a pipe by one of the cots. He laid down and looked up at the ceiling, hands behind his head. He closed his eyes and dozed off, waking about an hour and a half later when a towel hit him in the face.

Sam removed the towel and saw Commander Shepard standing at the entrance to their cubbyhole. “Figured you three may want to make use of the showers. I apologize for the non-standard quarters, but it was that or the cargo bay.” Shepard rubbed his chin for a moment. “I’m also not a hundred percent comfortable with you being here, but frankly? I’ll take all the help I can get right now.”

“How’s your friend doing?” Dean asked.

“He’ll live. I’ll know more in a few days--for now, though, I have to focus on the job. Go grab yourselves a shower on Deck Three. I’ll have fresh fatigues waiting for you when you get out. We have a doctor on board now, and she wants to give you a baseline physical exam. After that, you can get yourself something to eat from the mess. We’ll talk more after I get back from Palaven.” Shepard turned and retreated up the stairs.

When they came out of the shower, a handsome silver-haired woman wearing a black-trimmed white smock and black pants was waiting for them. “Hello gentlemen,” she said with a crisp English accent. “I’m Dr. Chakwas. I’ve come to give you each a physical examination.” Sam, Dean, and Castiel hid behind the divider between the shower area and the head, peeking out from around the corner like children who had been caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing. Dr. Chakwas laughed. “Gentlemen, I’m a doctor. I can assure you that if I’ve seen one, I’ve seen them all.” She consulted a datapad for a moment. “Sam, you first. Nothing invasive, just a scan with my Omni-Tool.” 

Sam tentatively stepped out from behind the divider, rewrapping his towel around his waist. Dr. Chakwas raised her hand, and the same orange light-gauntlet that Cortez and Corporal Francis used popped up. She waved her hand slowly over Sam, consulting a display that popped up on her wrist every few seconds. “Oh my,” she said, “you’ve had quite the adventures, haven’t you? I see evidence of past broken bones and dislocated joints, a tear in your right ACL that seems to have taken place about twelve years ago and hasn’t healed properly, and--oh, this is interesting. There are some strange deformations in the bone structure of your ribcage.”

“Those are Enochian warding sigils,” Castiel explained helpfully. He stepped out, dripping wet with towel in hand. “I, err...carved them on their ribs. To hide them from all angels and demons.”

“Cas!” Dean hissed, making towel-wrapping motions around his waist when his friend looked back at him. Castiel looked down at his naked body, then looked at the towel in his hand. After several seconds, he got a look of realization on his face and quickly tied the towel around his waist like a cummerbund, covering absolutely nothing. Dean smacked his face with his palm and shook his head.

“Thank you Sam,” Dr. Chakwas said without missing a beat. “Your fatigues are on the bench over there,” she said, pointing to three separate stacks of clothing that had each been paired with a new pair of combat boots. "EDI even put your name on them. Okay gentlemen, which of you two wants to be next?”

Dean stepped forward. “I’ll go,” he stated. “Who’s this Edie chick, anyway? She sounds like she does just about everything around here.”

“EDI--the Enhanced Defence Intelligence--is the ship’s Artificial Intelligence,” Dr. Chakwas commented as she started to scan Dean. “Normally she’d answer for herself, but she’s currently hard at work trying to extract some data from that Cerberus synthetic in the AI Core.” She stopped briefly when Dean started wriggling in place. “If you’re trying to disrupt my scans, Dean,” Dr. Chakwas cracked with a smile, “you’re failing quite admirably. And it looks like you’ve been through even more than your brother,” she continued. “You also need to eat better, because your liver and heart don’t seem to be very happy with you. There, all done--go get dressed.” Dean nodded and went to put on his new fatigues.

Castiel stood stock still while Dr. Chakwas scanned him. “This is quite unusual,” she said. “No genetic abnormalities of any kind, no evidence of injury and all parts absolutely pristine...it’s as if you were created in a laboratory.”

“I was, in a sense,” Castiel replied. “My Father created me as a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. This...” he indicated his body, “...is a vessel. His name is Jimmy. He is a devout man, who prayed for the opportunity to serv--”

“Cas, we’re not in Kansas anymore remember?” Dean’s prompt from the corner silenced the angel. “You’re not an angel here.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Castiel got a slightly sheepish look on his face and went to get dressed.

Dr. Chakwas completed her scan, and the light-glove snapped off. “All done, thank you gentlemen. I just need to get back to the medbay and--” Her statement was cut short when the lights dimmed and came up again. The ship shook slightly, and strange sounds like electrical surges and an engine revving began echoing through the ship. “--process the information I gained from the scans. Finish getting dressed,” Dr. Chakwas said. “I have a feeling you may be needed sooner rather than later.” She walked out of the showers, leaving the Winchesters to finish putting on their new clothes.

The fatigues that the three were given matched those worn by other members of the crew. The blue fabric was dense, with leather reinforcements between the shoulder blades of the shirt that provided posture support and, along with matching reinforcements across the chest on the front of the shirt, offered a stylish measure of protection. The wide heavy belt and pants were a single piece, the pants reinforced on the outside of the legs and across the top of the butt. The pants tucked into leather steel-toed boots. 

Dean admired himself in the mirror. “Not bad,” he said. “Not bad at all!” He grinned. “We look pretty good, I think.” Castiel tugged a bit at the collar of his shirt until Dean walked over and adjusted it for him. He did a deep knee-bend and got an impressed look on his face. “And they’re comfy, too.”

They walked out of the showers and into the mess, where several crewmembers were eating or chit-chatting. 

“Well,” Dean said, “I don’t know about you two, but I’m hungry.” He trotted over to the kitchen area and went poking through the refrigerator until he found a stash of what looked like microwaveable meals. He took one and stuck it in the small over-stove oven, which turned on automatically and began to heat the container. “And at least microwaves haven’t changed much in two hundred years.”

The lights on the ship dimmed and brightened again, with the ship’s power dipping at the same time. Liara hustled past Dean in a blue-trimmed black armoured coat and bodysuit, ducking into a room opposite the medbay. Several minutes later, she emerged in her white suit and headed up to the command deck. Dean stepped around from behind the counter and walked toward his companions when the microwave started slowly beeping. Sparks crackled from the touchpad by the door, and the beeping increased in pace. Dean turned just in time to see a wisp of smoke coming from the microwave. The beeping became a screech, and the door exploded outward in a shower of sparks and spaghetti-and-meatballs, catching Sam full in the face and dropping him to the deck before he could get out of the way. Dr. Chakwas rushed out from the medbay while Dean and Cas looked at each other and back at the microwave. The mess was dead silent, all eyes on the three newbies.

“Anyone got a mop?” Dean asked. One crewman stood up from the table and pointed to a closet next to the kitchen.

“There’s a panel in there that’ll activate a cleaning drone,” he said. After a minute, he added, “Hey, aren’t you the guy that clocked himself in the face with an Avenger the other day?” A wave of giggles rolled through the crew in the mess, and Dean looked up to the ceiling and threw up his hands in an “I give up” gesture before going over to the closet. 

Chakwas had gotten Sam up and into the medbay to tend to him. He had two black eyes and was bleeding from the nose, and his face was starting to swell. Castiel followed them into the medbay and observed the doctor carefully applying Medi-Gel to Sam’s face before lowering some sort of device over him. A series of tiny needles came out on mechanical arms and started to lightly prick Sam’s face, focusing on his nose and left eye socket. Sam clenched his fists at first and tried hard not to squirm, but quickly relaxed when the upper left quadrant of his face started to numb up. “You’ve broken your nose and left orbital bone, Sam. I’ve given you subcutaneous injections of Medi-Gel to help your bones heal and keep the inflammation down.” She raised the device and helped him up, leading him to another bed. “Rest here, and I’ll check on you in a few minutes.” She turned to look at Castiel and asked, “Is there something I can help you with, Castiel?”

Castiel tilted his head slightly. “I was just curious,” he said absently as he watched the bruises slowly fade from Sam’s face. “If I may ask, what exactly does Medi-Gel do?”

“It speeds healing by, among other things, accelerating blood clotting and forming a barrier against infection,” Dr. Chakwas explained, “it also functions as a painkiller and anti-inflammatory agent. In this case, it’s helping Sam’s broken facial bones knit together and relieve the inflammation that was caused when he got hit with that oven door.” 

Castiel nodded. “I see. Thank you.” He turned and walked out of the Medbay. 

Dean stared at the panel for a moment before randomly pressing a button. The panel lit up, then quickly went out. The mess emptied in short order as the lights dimmed and a quartet of floating balls of light popped out and started buzzing around the deck, randomly zapping people with small electric shocks. Dean yelped and ducked into the kitchen to grab a frying pan from the stove and swing it at the balls, which darted around him as the vegetables, noodles, and sauce that had been in the pan flew everywhere. He hit one ball, causing it to flash and dart back to zap the pan. Cas stood there for a moment with a somewhat confused look on his face.

“Dean, what are you doing?”

Dean kept wildly swinging the frying pan around at the balls of light, which kept dodging him and occasionally stinging him with mild shocks. “I’m practicing to be a Jedi, Cas--what does it look like I’m doing?!” A ball flew toward Castiel, who shielded himself with his trenchcoat, and buzzed him for a few seconds before vanishing along with its companions. “Great,” Dean muttered, looking around at the disaster in the mess. “We’ve made a mess of the mess. Come on, help me find something to clean this up before Shepard comes back and decides to have us go out and repaint the ship without spacesuits.” 

Two crewmen came running around the corner from the elevator toward the medbay. The older of the two stopped and looked at Dean and Castiel for a moment before holding up his hand, which lit up with another orange light-gauntlet. He tapped his wrist a few times, and a larger orange-white ball of light blinked into existence. “Here,” he said, “this drone will take care of that.” He looked at Dean and quipped, “And you may want to hit the head and clean yourself up, too.” The drone started zapping short electrical pulses at the detritus strewn around the mess area and on the medbay windows, burning the solid material away before spraying a substance to dissolve the blood and liquids and make them disappear entirely. It then buzzed over to the microwave and did the same thing before blinking out of existence. 

Dean walked over to the kitchen and looked around for a dish towel or something like it so he could clean sauce off of his face and out of his hair. “OK, I want one of those,” He said. “Seriously, do you know how awesome that would be, having our own little robo-maid in the Batcave?”

“This place is certainly...interesting,” Castiel replied. “It looks like Sam’s up, by the way.” They looked and saw Dr. Chakwas sitting Sam up and slowly passing a wand of some kind over his face before patting him on the shoulder and sending him out. The two crewmen that had gone into the medbay were camped at the door to the AI Core. One was scanning with his funky light-glove, and the other had gotten out what looked like a fire extinguisher. They both had put on some sort of mask. Sam still had a little bruising around his left eye, but otherwise looked unharmed.

“Well that was interesting,” he said, walking to the kitchen and getting himself a glass of water. “There’s apparently a fire in the AI Core.” Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead. “And I got smacked in the face with a microwave oven door. So far, this day has been lots of fun.” He sat down at a table and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Dean and Cas. “Wonder what else could possibly happen?”

“I dunno Sammy,” Dean quipped as he sat down next to his brother. “But at least we don’t have demons to worry about.”

Shepard finally came trucking out of the elevator and went into the medbay. The door to the AI Core opened, and he walked in. After several minutes, a very shapely and very metallic woman walked out of the medbay and proceeded to the elevator. Her skin and hair were silvery-blue and trimmed with light blue glowy bits, and she was wearing an amber visor of some kind. “Hello gentlemen,” she said cheerfully as she walked past.

Castiel cocked his head to one side and got a rather confused look on his face. “That sounded like the ship’s AI.”

Dean sat there for a moment before finally saying “Damn--I certainly wouldn’t mind researching her.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” came a purring voice from behind them. “I suspect that Joker’s already staked his claim by now.”

Sam turned to see who was talking, and jumped back from the mess table when he saw a grey-skinned creature wearing blue and silver armour standing there. Its face looked like it had been burned on the right side, and in addition to clawed three-fingered hands and clicking mandibles it had sharp teeth, legs that ended in taloned feet, and a scary-looking fringe of bone. A strange appliance of some kind arced over part of its face to cover its left eye, and it was wearing blue face paint. 

“Holy mother of crap!” Sam threw his glass of water at the creature and jumped back from his seat at the table, spitting out rapid-fire latin. ”Exorcziamusteomnisimmundusspiritusomnissatanicapotestas, omnisincursioinfernalisadversariiomnislegioomniscongregatioetsectadiabolica...!” Dean jumped up and grabbed the chair he was sitting on, trying desperately to wrench it from where it was securely bolted to the deck. Cas spun around and settled into a fighting stance.

“I guess we were wrong about demons,” Castiel said.

“What the--?!” The creature sputtered, staggering back with what looked like a grossly offended look on its face. Shepard came running out of the medbay with a towel. “Dammit Shepard,” it said to him. “You could have warned me, y’know?”

Shepard took one look at Dean, who was still trying to pick up his chair, and started laughing. He patted the creature on the shoulder and handed over the towel. “Sorry, Garrus.” He walked over to Dean. “Give it up--not even Lieutenant Vega can get that chair up off the floor.” After a few seconds, Dean finally ceased his efforts and backed up. Shepard turned back to the newcomer and buckled over laughing at the expression of disbelief on its face. “Oh man,” he said between wheezing chortles, his face a ruddy hue. “That look on your face, Garrus...I have got to tell Wrex about this.” He took a couple of deep breaths and composed himself, letting the red fade from his face. “I’m sorry, guys. I should have warned you, but I got a little sidetracked by everything happening with EDI. Dean, Sam, Castiel--this is Garrus Vakarian. He’s a turian, and he also happens to be my best friend. Garrus, these are the three I told you about. Dean, Sam, and Castiel Winchester.” Castiel opened his mouth to say something, but Sam gently nudged him and gave him a slight shake of his head.

“Are there more like him?!” Dean squeaked, clearly spooked at meeting his first truly alien-looking alien. 

Garrus stepped forward after drying his face off, and extended his hand. “Only a few billion or so...give or take a few hundred million here or there, thanks to the Reapers. And my boss is on Deck Two, in the War Room. So there are two of us on board.” Dean tentatively shook Garrus’ hand. “Don’t worry,” Garrus said reassuringly, “We turians don’t bite. Well, unless our partners ask us to.” The turian shook hands in turn with Sam and Castiel. “And just so you know, I generally like my water in a glass rather than in my face.” Garrus bared his teeth in what looked like a rough approximation of a smile, and winked. He turned and started up toward the fore section of the ship. “I’m going to be in the forward battery, Shepard. I’m sure somebody messed up something while I was gone.” He paused and looked back over his shoulder. “You may want to tell them about the Salarians and the Krogan, by the way. I’d hate to have to explain to the Primarch how they inadvertently started a galactic incident when they met Wrex.”

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Shepard muttered. He looked at the exploded microwave, then at the oven’s door, which was still lying on the deck outside the medbay. “Do I want to know what happened?” he asked.

“No,” Sam shot back before Dean or Castiel could say anything. “No, you really don’t.” He rubbed his face absently and winced.

“EDI got video if you want,” Joker piped up over the PA, sounding very amused. “It’s actually pretty impressive!” Dean smacked his face with his palm, then pulled it back to see sauce on it.

“While you’re having a laugh at our expense,” he said, “I’m going to get cleaned up.” Dean turned and walked to the head.


	6. Making Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Free Will gets formally introduced to the weaponry of the 22nd Century, and discovers the awesomeness that is the Omni-Tool.

The morning began with a tour of the ship.

“You’ve already seen the mess, the medbay, the armory, and part of Engineering. It’s about time I introduced you to some of the other members of the crew,” Shepard told them on the way into the cockpit. He stepped to one side, letting the newest members of Normandy’s crew slide in. “Joker, I’d like you to meet the Winchester brothers and their friend Castiel. Gentlemen, this is Jeff Moreau, the best pilot in the Alliance fleet. And in the co-pilot’s seat is EDI, the ship’s AI.” The pilot’s seat turned around to reveal a young man in Alliance fatigues, wearing a cap emblazoned with SR-2. He had a short gingery beard and sparkling green eyes. He smiled and reached up to shake their hands.

“So,” Joker cracked, “you guys seriously tried to perform an exorcism on somebody that can not only take your head off at a thousand meters, but do it blindfolded while facing backwards and dancing an Irish jig on a rolling log? I don’t know if I should give you a medal or question your sanity.” He flashed them a cheesy grin.

Sam’s response was to bury his face in his palm while Dean rolled his eyes and Castiel shook his head.

EDI stood up from the co-pilot’s seat and walked over to the group. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” she said with a smile, pleasantly shaking hands with each of them and curtseying. “If you need to speak with me, you may come up here to the cockpit or hail me from any part of the ship. Shepard, may I speak to you in private?”

“Sure. Don’t break my pilot while I’m gone, you three,” Shepard remarked to the hunters before accompanying EDI out of the cockpit and toward the entrance to the CIC.

Joker watched them retreat and sighed quietly. Then he looked up at his visitors. “So...you hunt monsters, huh? I bet you three had a ball when the Reapers landed.” He looked at Castiel. “And you’re an honest-to-god angel?”

“Yes.” Castiel fidgeted uncomfortably. “Though I am currently without...my mojo.”

“Your mojo. Right.” Joker paused for a moment. “So what do you think of the Normandy?”

“Slow,” Castiel replied matter-of-factly. “Confining.” 

Joker gave Castiel an incredulous look. He removed his hat, scratched the top of his head for a moment, then put his hat back on. “You really just said that?” He looked at the angel. “Wow, you really just said that.” Behind Cas, Dean buried his face in his hands. Sam got a pained look and opened his mouth as if to say something before quickly closing it.

“So, Castiel,” Joker said. “What’s it like? Being an angel, I mean. Do you get ten demerits if you miss your daily harp choir practice? Does G--”

“Hey Cas,” Dean hastily interjected, reaching over to pat Castiel on the shoulder while Sam gave Joker a look of incredulity. “Just out of curiosity, why are you wearing your trenchcoat over your fatigues?”

Castiel turned to Dean, giving Sam the opportunity to give Joker a quick head-shake and mouth the words sore subject. “Oh, I er...I don’t want to lose it.”

“Nobody’s going to mess with it on the Normandy,” Joker said reassuringly. “I guarantee it. EDI keeps an eye on everything, and Shepard? If it’s one thing he won’t abide on his ship, it’s people who mess with other peoples’ stuff.”

“Yeah,” Dean continued, patting Castiel on the shoulder again and adding a little emphasis. “So let’s go find someplace down in our ‘room’ to put--”

“No,” Castiel said quietly. “I’d, uh, rather not.” He got an uncomfortable look on his face. “I...I feel better when I wear it,” he admitted. “More confident.”

Joker started laughing. “Wait, wait, wait...it’s like your blankie?” he asked incredulously. “An angel needs a security blanket?” Sam and Dean both facepalmed, and Castiel got a very hurt look on his face.

“Jeff,” EDI’s voice echoed chidingly in the cockpit, “would you like it if somebody laughed at you for always wearing your hat?” The three hunters looked around the cockpit, back at EDI and Shepard talking, then at each other.

“Okay, okay,” the pilot sighed after a few seconds and put up his hands in a gesture of surrender, “I guess you’re right. OK, look, I’m sorry I teased you about the coat,” Joker said. “It does look a little out of place though, and I know Shepard won’t let you even think of wearing it if he takes you on a mission with him. Oh yeah, and EDI’s still running the ship even while she’s over talking to Shepard. Like I said, she keeps an eye on everything.” He leaned forward slightly and whispered, “She is so my mom sometimes.” He sat back and said “Oh, and if you see a little black cat running around, that’s Ninja. He adopted Shepard when we were on Horizon last year, and the crew sees him as kind of a good luck charm. If he gets out of Shepard’s cabin, he’ll probably decide to follow you around and watch what you’re doing. He likes that sort of thing.”

After the tour of the ship, the group went back down to the shuttle bay, where Vega and Cortez were both waiting for them in front of a pair of waist-high benches with various items on them. A weapons rack sat off to the side, with several expanded weapons arrayed on it. Vega was wearing the heavy suit of battered-looking black armour that he had on when they first met, a slight smile on his face.

“You’ll need to remove the trenchcoat,” Shepard said to Castiel. “It’s going to get in the way otherwise.” Castiel gave him a hurt look, and Shepard put his hands out. “I’ll stow it in your sleeping area for you,” he continued. “Relax, you’ll be fine.” He gave a reassuring look, and the angel slowly took off the coat and handed it over. “Thanks,” Shepard said, draping the coat over one arm. “Okay you three, Lieutenants Vega and Cortez will be fitting you for your hardsuits and giving you a crash course on moving around in them, and they’ll also show you how to use today’s weaponry without hurting yourself.” Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head, and Cortez and Vega chuckled. “Be sure to pay attention to them, or you’ll have me and Garrus as instructors next. Lieutenants, I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you and your students.”

“Okay gentlemen,” Cortez stepped forward as Shepard got on the elevator. “We’re going to start with the hardsuits. Mister Vega here is wearing a heavy hardsuit. It has environmental controls, Medi-Gel dispenser modules, life support sensors, and a kinetic barrier generator, which you will see when he turns around.” Cortez made a swirly motion with his hand, and Vega turned around. The hunters saw a roundel on his left shoulder that glowed faintly blue around the edges. “It’s also got magnetic hook hardpoints at various locations on the back, where he can secure various weapons that he may need for a particular mission. In this case, he’s got an M-23 Katana shotgun here--” Cortez pointed to an item at the waist, “An M-8 Avenger assault rifle here--” He pointed to another item stowed on Vega’s left shoulder, “And he’s got his small sidearm--a Carnifex heavy pistol--here,” Cortez pointed to a pistol hooked by Vega’s left hip. “The weaponry we take into the field is designed to be collapsible for the sake of portability, which I believe you found out already.” Vega chuckled softly, while Dean just sighed and rolled his eyes again.

“Mister Vega,” Cortez went on, “Could you please take out your shotgun for us?” The Winchesters watched Vega reach behind his back and unhook the shotgun, then expand it to full size before turning around to face the group again. He then collapsed it and handed it to Cortez, who held it out toward the trio of hunters. “The contact points for the mag-hooks are embedded here and here,” Cortez pointed to two spots on the shotgun, on the stock end and just behind the mouth of the barrel. “And the disengage is here.” Cortez pointed to a switch in the middle of the barrel housing. “That way it’s easy-on and easy-off. If you toggle this switch here,” he pointed to a small button just above the trigger housing, “it expands the weapon out and prepares it for use. That button, by the way, is also the safety for the gun. So don’t hit it unless you intend to use it.” Cortez handed the collapsed shotgun back to Vega, who hooked it to his armour again. “Any questions?”

“Are they all pistol-grip, and how do you reload something?” Dean asked. Vega turned around and fished a round object a few centimeters long out of a compartment on his suit. He handed it to Dean. The object had a flat bottom and an indicator on its side that was lit up in red.

“Feel free to pass it around,” he said. “It’s a thermal clip--basically a heat sink. They’re a pretty standard design, so they fit in pretty much everything, though some guns generate more heat and go through clips faster than others do. Firearms these days spit out their own rounds, and the clips help soak up the heat that gets generated. When we get to the weapons portion of today’s class, I’ll show you pendejos how to pop used ones out and pop new ones in. And with a few exceptions, these--he indicated the weaponry in the armoury--are all pistol-grip.” Vega looked back at Cortez. “You want me to strip now, Esteban?”

Cortez smiled. “If you would, please.” Vega started to remove the pieces of his hardsuit, and Cortez explained the innards of each piece to his students before handing it back to Vega, who demonstrated its attachment to his under armour bodysuit. “...and now, we get to get you each into a light hardsuit.” Cortez turned and picked up a chest piece from the table, holding it up as he turned back to the Winchesters. The chestpiece had pockets scattered over the front, plating over the torso and shoulders, and looked like a heavy jacket more than a suit of armour. “This is tactical armour, which is made of ballistic cloth and flexible plating with extra hardening over the upper body, on the joints, and various other sensitive areas. It doesn’t look like much, but it works great for recon units, engineers, combat medics, and others that don’t usually take a lot of heavy fire.”

After four hours of fitting, refitting, and learning how to attach and detach weapons, Shepard came back down. “How are they doing?” he asked Cortez.

“They’re quick studies,” the procurement officer replied. “from what they told me and James, part of their learning to be whatever it is that they are where they’re from involved a lot of weapons training. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were already military.” They watched James take his charges through combat drills within a kinetic barrier that had been thrown up over the rear half of the shuttle bay. Sam, Dean, and Castiel rolled from crate to crate, with James coaching them through firing from cover and timing shots to maintain damage output without overtaxing their shields.

“Yeah--Dr. Chakwas and I had a chat about the one with the trenchcoat. Castiel. She said that his medical scans were better than normal--they were perfect, like he was created rather than the product of random chance or grown in a lab.” Shepard stroked his chin. “But there aren’t any signs of spliced genes in him. She also said that Sam’s DNA showed signs of being almost completely rewritten.”

Cortez raised an eyebrow. “You think they’re indoctrinated Reaper agents?”

Shepard shook his head. “No. I can’t explain it, Steve. Maybe he really is an angel in the body of a human, and maybe they are from a parallel universe. I don’t know. But I do know that they’re here now and want to help....” He looked down to the deck.

“What?” Cortez raised an eyebrow.

“When Major Al--Kaidan was in the medbay before we got him to the Citadel,” Shepard said quietly, “Liara and I saw Castiel put his hand on Kaidan and concentrate, like he was trying to make him better. The disappointment on his face...I don’t know. I don’t completely get them, but my gut tells me that they’re on our side.” He sighed. “And we can use all the help we can get.”

Cortez nodded. “They seem like decent guys. James and Dean sure seem to have hit it off--but some of their stories, man. I mean, Zombies? Vampires? Demons? Chupacabra? That’s crazy storybook urban-legend stuff. If they’re not crazy, then wherever they’re from certainly is. And it looks like they’re done for the day.” Cortez indicated the group at the far end of the shuttle bay. The kinetic barrier had come down, and Vega and the Winchesters were breaking down and stowing weapons and cleaning up spent thermal clips before walking back to the lockers.

“Okay guys,” Vega said. “These three lockers are yours. They’re unlocked until you go see Adams for your Omni-Tools. So go ahead and get changed, and you can stow your suits here. Hey Loco,” Vega remarked to Shepard. “These three learn damn quick. Can’t wait to see how they do in the field!”

Shepard smiled. “Thanks, James. As for the three of you, you’re now Alliance irregulars. You don’t have ranks as such, but you’re attached to the Normandy and you answer directly to me. Congratulations.”

“Admiral Hackett approved that?” Cortez asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“No--Admiral Shepard did. She did get Hackett to sign off on it, however.” Shepard’s rejoinder made Vega start laughing.

“Admiral...?” Sam looked up from stowing his armour and raised an eyebrow.

“Admiral Hannah Shepard. His mom,” Vega replied. “Loco asked his mom for permission. Man, Loco, that’s too much.” Shepard just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Can it, Lieutenant. When the three of you are done here, head on up to the mess. Engineer Adams said he’s got your Omni-Tools ready for you.”

Shepard led the new crewmembers to the mess area, where a middle-aged man with dark hair and blue-grey eyes was waiting for them with three rounded teardrop-shaped items laid out on the table. Dean raised a hand in recognition. “Hey, I remember you. You’re the guy that helped me clean up the mess in the mess yesterday.”

Adams nodded and smiled. “That’s me!” He shook hands with Dean, Sam, and Cas. “Welcome to the Normandy,” he said cheerfully. “I’m Chief Engineer Greg Adams. My main job is to make sure that the ship stays running, but today I’ll be your guide to the Omni-Tool.” He picked up the items on the table and handed one to each of the hunters. “The Omni-Tool is a handheld gadget that can perform a million and one civilian and military functions, literally.” Adams held up his left hand to show his Omni-Tool. “You’ll notice that it fits in the palm of your hand or on the back of your hand. If you touch this button here--” he pointed to a tiny switch just under his ring finger “--a couple of clasps pop out that let you hold it on two fingers, which frees you to use it for manual tasks, use a keyboard with both hands, and so on. Some hack their tool's housing to wrap around their wrists--but it’s all a matter of personal preference and what works best for you.”

Sam held his Omni-Tool in his hand and touched the switch, and the clasps wrapped themselves snugly around his middle and ring fingers. “Wow,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement at a new electronic toy. “So it’s like a PDA on steroids? Can you program it for other things?” 

“Sure can,” Adams replied. He showed Sam, Dean, and Castiel how to pull up different programs on their tools. “I’ve already loaded a few military-grade programs for you,” he explained. “Scanning and diagnostic programs mostly, a universal translator, and an overload program--activate it at your target, and you zap them with an electrical pulse that disrupts shields, staggers synthetics like geth, and can also trigger explosives. I took the liberty of tweaking the program a bit to give the pulse a little extra oomph so it can be used on organics. Don’t use it on anyone friendly though, because they’ll get a nasty shock.”

“Oh, so it’s like a taser,” Sam mused. “Where we’re from, a taser shoots out little prongs that hook onto clothing and send a high-voltage shock through the person that you target with it. Police like to use them as ‘non-lethal’ weapons.” Adams nodded in understanding.

“That's about right. With EDI’s help,” Adams continued, “I also included an interactive tutorial to help you make your own modifications.”

“I am also happy to answer any questions that you have,” EDI said over the intercom. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Dean quipped. Castiel looked up from where he was fiddling with his Omni-Tool.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Dean responded. Castiel shrugged and went back to fiddling with the gadget. The angel’s fingers flew over the hard-light holographic keyboard that the tool had popped up in front of him. He paused, rubbed a finger over his bottom lip for a moment and furrowed his brow in thought, then typed some more. “Whatcha working on, Cas?” Dean peeked over Castiel’s shoulder.

“I'm modifying a program," Castiel said. "I will have to wait until we’re in a battlefield situation to fully test it--but the results should be interesting to see.” 

“The Omni-Tool also has mini-facturing capabilities. If you’re in the field and you need a spare part to make repairs, you can program your tool to make the part you need out of common elements in the surrounding environment. You can also use it for close combat weapons, like this.” As if on cue, Adams popped out a wicked-looking flaming orange blade.

Dean’s eyes grew wide. “Wait--so you can use that thing to gank somebody?” he asked somewhat gleefully. “Just run up on them and shiv ‘em in the back?”

“Oh yes,” Adams said before he collapsed the blade. “Though some of our combat engineers use them to help punch or backhand attackers, rather than using the blades.” He tapped the tool and made a fist, and a large orange gauntlet appeared over his hand. “Like this. But I’ll let you mess with it and come up with something that works for you.” The engineer smiled. “Just don’t go too overboard with it, because you risk over-taxing the microframe and slowing down other processes that may be more important. But if you’re up to your eyeballs in husks, that blade is better than nothing. When you’re in a hardsuit in the field, the tool interfaces with sensors in your gauntlets, so you can use it and your weapon if you need to. Any other questions for me?”

“None here,” Sam said. Dean and Castiel both shook their heads.

“Then I’d better get back down to Engineering. I’ll see you around the ship, gentlemen.” Adams turned and left the mess. The three hunters sat there messing with their Omni-Tools for a few minutes more, until a faint gurgling sound was heard from the general direction of Castiel. Dean and Sam turned to see Cas blushing slightly.

“Sorry,” he said apologetically. “I’m a little, er, hungry.”

As if on cue, all three Omni-Tools lit up. “The mess has cooking facilities,” EDI commented through their Omni-Tools’ comms program. “You may make use of them, if you wish to prepare something to eat. Please be advised that anything marked in red in the refrigeration unit is formulated for turians and quarians, and will cause an adverse reaction.”

“Cool,” Sam responded. “Uhh...thanks, EDI.”

“You are welcome, Sam.” 

The omni-tools winked off, and Sam looked down at the tool in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“Sure you will,” Dean replied as he got up from the table and went to rummage through the refrigerator in the Normandy’s small kitchen. “Then, if we ever get home, you’ll wonder how you’ll get along without it.” He looked back over his shoulder. “If you two want something, speak now or live with whatever I fix for you.”

“As long as it’s not spaghetti in meatballs from the microwave,” Sam quipped, “I think I’ll be okay.”


	7. That's No Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Free Will takes their first trip to the Citadel. Castiel becomes enthralled by a Mass Relay. And Garrus explains why dextro food will cause issues.

The Winchesters’ first view of the Citadel was impressive. Shepard stood next to them at a viewport on the Crew Deck and pointed out various locations to them, starting with the mass relay at the edge of the nebula and ending with the wards and the Presidium. Castiel reached out when he saw the giant blue-black orb of the relay’s mass effect core and touched the glass of the viewport. He stood and stared at the naked core until the Normandy passed within the Citadel’s arms and the nebula obscured the relay. “Cas,” Dean said, patting him on the shoulder. “We’re here.” Castiel didn’t move. “Cas, you okay?”

Castiel blinked, then turned to look at Dean. “Oh, yes--sorry. I was...the core of the relay fascinated me. I was trying to study it.” He looked around the observation lounge. “Were you all waiting on me?” he asked sheepishly.

“You okay?” Shepard’s voice expressed concern. “You kinda spaced out for a few minutes there.”

“Yes,” Castiel replied. “I’ll be okay. I’ve just never seen so much dark energy coalesced into one place before. I was trying to fathom the knowledge and skill it took to accomplish that task.”

“Element Zero,” Shepard said. “It’s our two-edged sword--on one hand, it’s made so much of our technology possible. On the other hand, the Reapers are the ones behind it all. For millennia, they’ve been manipulating races to a certain level of technological progress and then harvesting them. We managed to stop them three years ago, but I knew it was only a matter of time before they came calling again.” He sighed deeply. “It’s frustrating, trying to warn people about impending doom, trying to make them get ready, and not being listened to.”

Castiel put a hand on Shepard’s shoulder and gave him a friendly squeeze. “We’ve been in similar situations,” he said quietly. “It’s hard.”

“Cas is right, Shepard,” Dean picked up where Castiel left off. “We’ve been down that road. Not quite on the same scale, but we get it. We want to help, if we can--it’s kinda our job, helping people. And we know what it’s like to be manipulated into something. It sucks.”

“Thanks,” Shepard replied. “I greatly appreciate it.” The four of them stood quietly for a moment, watching ships fly around the docking areas of the station. “Let’s go,” the Commander finally said. “It’s time you got introduced to some of the other races in this galaxy.”

Garrus volunteered to lead them on a tour of the Citadel. “Hopefully we can get off to a better start,” the turian quipped. “I’ll take you to a few of my favourite bars and show you around the weapon shops. Just no water-throwing and strange religious rituals this time, okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam responded, his face turning a little pink. “I really am sorry about that.”

Garrus chuckled. “No harm done,” he said. “I’ve got an aircar rented for the day, so I can take you around to the wards and my favourite practice range.” Dean let out a frightened squeak, and the colour drained from his face a bit. Garrus did what looked like the turian equivalent of raising an eyebrow. “You okay?” Dean shook his head and took several deep breaths.

“He’s a nervous flier,” Sam explained. “It got a little hairy in Vancouver, when we took a cab from the park where we “landed” to our hotel.” Dean nodded quickly. He put up a hand and continued to take very slow breaths while Sam and Castiel both rubbed his back.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Garrus said reassuringly, “the car does have inertial compensators and safety harnesses. And I promise to be extra-careful when I drive.” Dean took another deep breath and closed his eyes for a long moment, then let it out. He opened his eyes and nodded.

“It’s cool. I’ll be OK I think,” he replied. “I’m sure you think I’m a giant wuss for being afraid of flying.”

“Nah,” Garrus reassured Dean. “Everyone has some big boogeyman that they have to deal with. But if you feel uncomfortable at all, you let me know and I’ll set the car down. We can walk to most places, which makes for better people-watching. The only down-side is that you spend a lot of time in elevators.” They reached the ground transport area. Garrus keyed in the code for one of the aircars, and both doors slid up and back as the canopy popped up. The four of them got in, and Garrus started the car. “Everybody strapped in?” The doors closed and the car gently levitated off the deck, allowing Garrus to pull the car out and into the flow of traffic. 

On the Presidium, Garrus pointed out the sights--the Krogan memorial, the Relay Monument, and the Citadel Tower. He regaled the hunters with the story of how he, Shepard, and Kaidan had come through the Relay Monument--actually a working miniature mass relay, he pointed out--in a tank to stop Saren. “Shepard got little to no thanks after that. The Council gave the humans a seat, sure. But they still refused to believe Shepard when he warned them about the Reapers, sent him to hunt geth even though they weren’t the real problem, called him a traitor when he came back from being MIA because Cerberus was funding his mission against the Collectors...and here we are.” Garrus sighed. “The whole world falling apart, and finally they listen.” 

“We have...what’s the phrase...”been there and done that”.” Castiel patted Garrus on the shoulder. “We tried to prevent the Apocalypse, failed, started the Apocalypse, and then stopped it.”

Garrus blinked. “Really.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group until Dean nudged Garrus. “Hey, who’s the jellyfish?” He nodded toward a pinkish creature that looked as if it was perched on a tall day-glo plant stand.

“Oh, that’s a hanar. The guy next to him is a drell. The hanar saved them when their planet died, so the drell return the favour by serving the hanar in various capacities--assassins mostly, but also majordomos, negotiators, what have you. Drell consider it a great honour to serve.” Garrus indicated a knot of wiry beings with digitigrade legs and horned heads that looked like upside-down pears with horns curving up from them. “And over there are salarians. Short lifespans, but they’re some of the most intelligent beings in the galaxy...and some of the most devious.” Garrus wrinkled his nose and paused uncomfortably. “Just ask the krogan.” Garrus pointed to a knot of beefy armoured lizards. “Though I don’t recommend doing that right now,” he quickly added, grabbing Castiel by the shoulder before he could follow Garrus’ suggestion. “The quickest way to anger a krogan is to bring up the genophage.”

“Genophage?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Not a shining moment in galactic history, if you ask me. The salarians “uplifted” the krogan so that they could fight the rachni--basically a race of insects that like to live in toxic environments--about two thousand years ago. What they didn’t count on was the fact that krogan breed like crazy, and when they’re not on a planet like Tuchanka where the wildlife and the plants are all trying to kill them, the population explodes. Fighting broke out, and the Council was in tough because the Krogan were breeding faster than they died in battle. So...the salarians created a disease that reduced their birth rate to one in a thousand--and my people were the ones that implemented it.” Garrus sighed. “It was brutal, but those were brutal and desperate times. Like I said, not exactly our finest hour.”

Dean grimaced. “That’s a pretty crappy thing to do,” he spat.

Garrus put up a hand. “I’m not defending it, especially not now. The krogan have a leader who’s uniting the clans and wants a better future for his people that doesn’t involve fighting everyone, and personally? I think that Wrex deserves a fair shot. So yeah, the genophage was a crappy thing to do, but at the time nobody had any other ideas. Well, ideas that didn’t involve out and out genocide, anyway.” He sighed again.

The last stop after a day of cruising gunshops and the occasional bar was a food court in Zakera Ward. “This place is pretty popular, especially with the krogan,” the turian drawled as they approached a kiosk decorated with a neon sign showing a bizarre fanged four-legged creature with fish-like eyes wearing a chef’s hat.”The Fish Dog Food Shack. Cheap, but pretty good. Just remember, you don’t want to order off the dextro menu.”

“OK, so I’m curious.” Sam looked over both menus that were posted up over the counter. “What’s the deal with dextro and non-dextro food?”

Garrus absently adjusted his visor. “A doctor in Zakera Ward once explained it to me--food that’s made for species whose DNA twists to the right, like quarians and us turians, causes species like humans and asari, whose DNA twists to the left, to experience something like...oh, what did she call it? A ‘diabetic coma’? Near-fatal spikes in blood sugar levels, loss of vision, kidney failure, extreme fatigue, disorientation, that kind of thing. It’s much the same the other way. So, if you see anything marked in red when you’re out shopping for food, don’t eat it unless you want to be rushed to a hospital immediately afterward.”

Sam scratched his brow for a moment as he tried to remember the Biology 101 class he took at Stanford. “So...eating dextro food is like eating a lot of super-concentrated sugar--does that mean that you’d be able to eat straight-up Earth sugar without having an issue, then?”

“Something like that,” Garrus responded. “I’m sure I’m forgetting something, though, so you may want to ask Doctor Chakwas when we get back on the Normandy. Oh, try the Varren skewers with the Tummy Tingling Tuchanka Sauce,” he said to Dean. “Spicy, but I’m told they’re pretty good. Of course, it was a teenage krogan who told me that so...what’s that phrase? Your mileage may vary?”

A salarian behind the counter took their orders, fish-dog hat arranged jauntily on his cranial horns. “Pickup line’s over there,” he said with a forced smile, voice barely disguising his abject boredom. “Next customer!” 

Dean looked over the menu in the pickup line and sighed. “You know what this place needs?” he said to Sam. “Pie. That pecan pie Cas bought me in Vancouver was the best pie I’ve had--well, aside from the pie Mom used to make of course.” 

A lavender-skinned asari put a tray on the counter with some plates of skewers and beckoned Dean to the counter. “Best place for pie in the ward is the Interstellar Sweetshop, by the way. The head baker’s krogan, but you’d never know it from his pastry. Trust me, you’ll love it.” She winked. “Oh, and here are your skewers. Enjoy!”

“Thanks,” Dean replied, taking the tray and smiling at the asari, who giggled and blushed slightly. “Never had this before, looking forward to trying it.” The four of them sat down at a nearby table. The skewers were spicy, lightly breaded, and tasted like a cross between beef and chicken. “What did you say this was?” he asked Garrus.

“Varren. They’re pack predators, native to Tuchanka but they’ve become a fairly common pest in most parts of the galaxy. So, they usually get hunted as a protein source. When they’re not used as warbeasts by the krogan and batarians, that is.” He pointed to the sign outside the kiosk. “That’s a varren, by the way--a cartoonish varren, but still a varren.”

Sam looked down at his skewers, then shrugged. “When in Rome.” He picked up another skewer, dunked it in the spicy sauce, and popped it in his mouth while people-watching. Among the passersby were a group of rotund beings in mostly metallic suits that made them look like waddling diving bells, their speech punctuated by asthmatic-sounding wheezes. They were followed by a couple of graceful grey-skinned elephantine beings who had strange folds and flaps where their mouths “should” be. A mixed group of asari and humans walked by, accompanied by a couple of batarians. A group of krogan in blood-red armour lumbered by, accompanied by creatures that looked like rejected demons, with sharp teeth in a perpetual rictus grin, blood-red eyes, clawed feet that looked like hooves, spiny projections from their heads and arms, and sharply-clawed hands.

“Interesting,” Garrus remarked. “So far today we've seen Hanar, Drell, Volus, Elcor, Asari, Salarians, Humans, Turians, Krogan, and Batarians. Even Vorcha, who I didn’t think were even allowed on the Citadel--but no Quarians. Usually there are a few here, working as “indentured employees” or on their Pilgrimage. I wonder where they all went?” He stroked one of his mandibles briefly.

“They’ve all been recalled to the Migrant Flotilla.” Shepard pulled up a seat with the group. “The quarians are gearing up for something,” he said. “Hopefully not something monumentally stupid like fighting with the geth.” He looked over at Dean’s remaining skewer. “Mind if I...?” Dean handed it to him, and Shepard started munching on it.

“How’s Kaidan?” Garrus asked. Shepard responded with a thumbs-up, then popped the last of the skewer in his mouth and put the empty stick back on Dean’s plate.

“Mmm.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin before continuing. “Thanks. Kaidan’s awake and talking now--and Councilor Udina offered him a Spectre position. I hope he takes it.” Shepard sounded hopeful. “He’ll be a damn good one.” He got up from the table. “But that’s not why I came to find you four. We need to get back to the ship so we can go host a summit.”

Dean looked longingly in the direction of the pastry shop. “But the piiiiie...” he whimpered.

Shepard chuckled and shook his head. “Oh stop, we’ve got pie on the Normandy.” He patted Dean on the back. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never cared overmuch for the way Bioware handled dextro food, and I'm a bit of a science honk, so I decided to come up with something a touch more scientifically plausible. Sugar is d-amino, so I extrapolated that a levo eating dextro food will probably suffer a fatal (or near-fatal) diabetic reaction since the body would read it as a particularly egregious excess of sugar, and vice versa. Far more plausible than anaphylaxis.


	8. Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Free Will goes to Sur'Kesh, and meet a krogan for the first time.

“Our first mission,” Dean crowed as he sat in the back of the shuttle. “What’s the name of that place? Sur’kesh? I feel...adventurous.” He turned to look at his brother. “Think of it Sammy, we’ll be the first people from our world to set foot on an actual alien planet.” Dean counted out several clips and stashed them in his armour’s front pockets. “You think we’ll see anything really wierd?”

“Probably lots of Salarians, since it’s their homeworld. And we won’t be able to tell anyone about it when we get home,” Sam replied. “Which makes it a little less exciting.”

Dean shook his head and set to work fiddling with his Omni-Tool. “Always such a downer,” he said. “So what if we can’t tell anyone? We’ll know, so I’m--”

The shuttle shook, accompanied by a very loud thump. The Winchesters looked up toward the front to see a large krogan standing there looking at them. He had red eyes, scars that marked his crimson cranial plate, and three long gashes down the right side of his face. “Hey Shepard,” he called out the door of the shuttle, “Who’re these three?”

“Irregulars. I thought I told you about them, Wrex. They’re from another world,” Shepard quipped as he hopped in with Garrus in tow and closed the shuttle door behind him, “where Reapers wear bad suits and eat junk food, instead of levelling cities and harvesting organics.”

The big battle-scarred krogan snorted. “Sometimes Shepard," he rumbled, "I don’t know if the Normandy’s a ship or a travelling freak show.” He lumbered over to the three and stuck out a hand. “Urdnot Wrex,” he said. “Did Shepard tell you about me?” he asked with a mock-threatening tone. 

“No,” Sam replied. “But Garrus did. Said you want to make things better for the krogan.” Wrex laughed and clapped Sam on the shoulder.

“Ha ha! That turian actually said something nice about me!” He leaned over. “Good job throwing that water on him, by the way. Shepard told me about that--I haven’t laughed like that in years.” He laughed and clapped Sam on the shoulder again before stomping back to the front of the shuttle, leaving Sam to look at Dean and Castiel with a _what just happened?_ expression on his face.

“Thanks for helping me out, Shepard. These females are the best and possibly last hope for my people.” Wrex plopped himself down on one of the jumpseats, making the shuttle shake slightly on the way out of the shuttle bay. “I want to get them out of there and home to Tuchanka where they belong.”

“Anytime, Wrex.” Shepard smiled, and Garrus made a big show of clearing his throat.

Wrex chuckled. “You too, Garrus.”

Garrus smiled. “Figured you’d gone soft sitting on your throne. Forgot how to hold a gun,” he cracked. 

The shuttle shook slightly as it began its descent into the atmosphere of the salarian homeworld. “Commander,” Cortez said when the shaking stopped, “I’ve got the base on scanners.”

“Set us down, Cortez.” Shepard turned back to Wrex. “Nervous?”

“I still don’t trust a word they say,” came the grumbling reply.

“Let diplomacy play out Wrex,” Shepard said. “You’ll get what you want.” Wrex hrrumphed and fidgeted with his shotgun some more before stowing it on his back.

“Commander,” Cortez said, “Salarian ground control is telling us we don’t have permission to set down.” The pilot looked a little nervous. The ladar display marked three Salarian gunships prepping for takeoff as the shuttle hovered over the landing pad.

Shepard stepped toward the cockpit. “Tell them the Dalatrass herself authorized this.”

“I knew they couldn’t be trusted!” Wrex stomped to the door. “Let’s see them try to stop a Krogan Airdrop,” he grumbled, hitting the emergency hatch release. The doors on the shuttle popped open to show the Salarian base, with snipers positioned on rooftop perches and marines on the ground with their weapons trained on the shuttle.

“Wrex!” Shepard turned and took a step toward the krogan, but was too late to keep him from jumping out of the shuttle to the landing platform. “Dammit,” the Commander muttered. “Get ready to roll,” he said to the remaining shuttle occupants. “Cortez, set us down. I’ll see if I can straighten this out.” Shepard patted Cortez on the shoulder and led the ground team out.

Dean and Sam marvelled at the amount of green on the Salarian homeworld. “Holy crap, look at this place--It’s absolutely beautiful,” Sam gushed, walking over to the edge of the landing platform. The multi-story base was arranged with a terraced layout that afforded workers on the upper levels fresh air and sunshine. Waterfalls crashed in the distance, and carefully-tended native plants lined the edges of each terrace. “I don’t think there’s anywhere on Earth that looks like this!” Castiel put a hand on their shoulders before either of them could wander off any farther.

“I hate to be a “wet blanket”, but we’re on a mission,” he said, nodding towards a trio of Salarians toting sniper rifles and giving them suspicious looks. “And we're being monitored. I think it would be wise if we kept our focus.” He looked around. “Perhaps we can come back to visit when this is over.” The three of them watched as Shepard talked to the facility’s director and a still-grumpy Wrex was accompanied into the facility by a trio of salarian guards. Dean reached down and picked up a pebble that was lying on the tarmac, and put it in one of the pockets of his armour before jogging back to Sam and Cas.

Shepard walked on into the facility, waving for Garrus, Sam, Dean, and Castiel to follow. A burly creature with horns on its head and a fearsome-looking triangular mouth full of sharp teeth thrashed against a containment field and roared with anger. “What the hell is that?” Dean asked.

“That’s a Yahg,” Shepard explained. “Liara and I fought one once. It wasn’t fun for either of us. Was even less fun for Garrus.”

“Well you’re still here, so it couldn’t have been very nice for him either.” Dean smirked. Garrus winced and rubbed his head. “You okay?” Dean asked.

“I was a little unconscious for that encounter,” the turian replied. “Getting hit in the face with a heavy desk tends to do that to a person.” He chuckled. “Though it was nothing like the time I got hit in the face with a missile from a gunship. Now _that_ smarted.”

Shepard stepped away to chat with a salarian in black armour, leaving his four squadmates to chat with Wrex, who had decided to amuse himself by loudly talking about the best ways to prepare salarian liver. Garrus tossed in a quip about vorcha preferring it grilled, to the guards’ consternation.

Shepard spent the elevator ride to the containment level mentally composing a letter to Kaidan. _Dear Kaidan, I’m on Sur’kesh with Wrex and Garrus right now, wishing you were here. It’s almost like old times. Sur’kesh is a beautiful planet. You’d love it here. Saw Kirrahe--he’s a Major now, just like you. He said to tell you hi._ He did his best to stifle a sigh. When Castiel turned to look in his direction, Shepard looked down at the ground. _Wish you were here, Kaidan._

The doors opened, and a salarian in white turned from a conversation he was having to face the group. His skin was scarred and rough with age, and one of his cranial horns was broken off. He saw Shepard and smiled.

“Shepard! Excellent timing. Good to have you here.” He shook Shepard’s and Garrus’ hands, then turned to the new faces. “Irregulars from Earth--Mordin Solus. Good to meet you.” He shook their hands, then turned back to Shepard. 

“How’d he know?” Sam whispered to Dean.

“Remember those two salarians you met in the mess before we came down here?” Garrus cut in. “They were the Dalatrass’ bodyguards, which means they're with the Special Tasks Group. They more than likely filed a report on you three about five minutes after you got on the shuttle.”

“Also Wrex’s source inside STG,” the aging salarian whispered to Shepard as the group walked through the base. “Passed him information about females.” The containment level was lined with cells, mostly empty. Lab equipment lined the walls. Technicians chatted with one another, some watching the group from the Normandy with mild interest. They came to a large room where five bodies were laid out and covered with shrouds. “These...didn’t make it.” Mordin sounded heartbroken when he said it.

“I’m sure you did your best, Mordin.” Shepard said reassuringly.

Dean grimaced and looked away, fighting back tears. “Sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “Unpleasant reminders of Mom...sorry.” Sam and Castiel comforted Dean as best they could, with gentle hugs and pats on the back. “Is there anyone left?” Dean asked quietly after several minutes.

“One,” Mordin said. “Immune to genophage.” One female krogan stood in a containment cell, partially encased in a metallic cocoon with medical sensors on it. She was covered from head to toe in ornately brocaded cloth, a veil covering everything except her eyes. “Please be careful, krogan slow to trust.”

Shepard stepped forward. “I’m Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy,” he said. 

“Are you here to kill me?” She asked.

“Kill her?” Sam was incredulous. He held up his Omni-Tool and fired up the medical diagnostic program, which showed her running a fever and showing signs of various internal and external injuries. “Damn, look at that--what did they do to her here?”

“Urdnot Wrex and I are here to take you home to Tuchanka. You represent the future of the Krogan race. I’m fighting for that.” Klaxons erupted throughout the base and warning lights began flashing, as if cued by Shepard’s response. Technicians rushed to consoles and started furiously tapping in commands, and the guards ran to man sniper perches around the perimeter of the room.

“Then I hope you brought an army,” the female intoned. Shepard’s Omni-Tool started blinking. He tapped the back of his left hand, and a holographic screen popped up.

“Shepard, it’s Wrex! Cerberus is attacking the base--get the females out of there now!”

“There’s only one left, Wrex. Wouldn’t it be safer down here?”

“Why, so the Salarians can kill her too?!” was the angry reply. “No way! Get her out of there, or the deal’s off! I didn’t come this far to see our only chance at curing the genophage lost!” Wrex closed the link, and Shepard turned to the technician at the console in front of the female’s containment pod. 

“We’re getting her out of here,” he said.

“Negative Commander, protocol states that--” the technician’s refusal was cut short by an electric shock that made him shudder violently for a few seconds.

“Objection noted,” Mordin said, his Omni-Tool held up to the technician’s head. “Now, please release krogan.” The technician started tapping commands in as soon as he recovered, and a door opened next to the pod. “Will meet you up top Shepard--Hurry!”

Shepard nodded and turned to the krogan female. “You’ll see Tuchanka again--I promise.” He turned back to his squad. “Head to the elevators,” he said. “We’ll meet Mordin and the female on the top level and provide covering fire while Wrex and Mordin get her onto the shuttle.” They ran back to the elevator.

“Just a moment Commander,” a guard by the elevator cautioned. “Something’s wrong with the elevator.” He tapped a few commands on a console, and the lock on the elevator door turned green. “There, try it now.”

The doors opened to reveal a device with a light on it that was blinking rapidly. “Oh crap,” Sam shouted. “Bomb!” Everyone by the elevator turned and ran away from the elevator. Several seconds later, the bomb exploded, the shockwave knocking Shepard down along with Dean and Castiel. They got up, and a technician directed them to an emergency exit shaft on the opposite wall. Shepard was first up the ladder, followed by Garrus and the brothers, with Castiel bringing up the rear.

“Get into position,” Shepard shouted. “Watch out for the Centurions--they've got the gold helmets, they’ll throw smoke bombs to cover chokepoints.” Black-helmeted assault troopers in yellow-and-white armour laid down covering fire. A smoke bomb from a gold-helmeted soldier landed right by Sam, who rolled out of cover and ducked behind a desk, right next to a trooper. The trooper turned and trained his assault rifle on Sam, who raised his hand and fired off a burst of electricity from his Omni-Tool. The super-shock staggered the Cerberus soldier, buying Sam enough time to blast him in the face with his shotgun and send him flying back over a nearby half-wall. 

Castiel activated his Omni-Tool and vanished from view. Thirty seconds later, a gold-helmeted centurion fell as a flaming orange blade appeared from out of nowhere and sliced through his head. The blade vanished, and a shimmer in the air marked Castiel's presence as he ducked behind a pillar to pick out another target. Garrus tapped Dean on the shoulder and pointed at somebody who looked to be setting up a device toward the back of the room. _Engineer,_ the turian mouthed. Dean nodded, and the two of them trained their sniper rifles on him. On a three-count, they each stroked their triggers. Dean’s round hit in the center of mass, dropping the target’s shields, and Garrus administered the coup de grace by blowing the engineer’s head off with a fragmentation round.

“Scoped and dropped,” Garrus purred as they chambered a new clip. “Good shot.”

“Thanks, you too,” Dean replied. A furious bellow made Dean look up to see Shepard stand up, spread his arms wide, and then clap them together before bull-rushing forward in a crackling blue streak to barrel over a group of troopers. Three of them went flying over the edge of the building, and the rest flew into the wall before crumbling in a heap on the floor. Shepard blasted one of them with a shotgun, then headed for a nearby door.

“This level’s clear,” he called out. “Let’s move!” The group rushed foward and through the door, turning a corner just in time to see two Cerberus troopers get jumped by the yahg they saw earlier, when it came crashing through a wall. The enormous creature tossed them around like toys, eventually flinging them into a jet of flame from a broken gas pipe. “Look out,” joked Shepard before ducking through a side room, leaving the yahg to barrel around the corner and out of sight. “There goes the next Shadow Broker.”

“I could have sworn I heard him muttering “T’Soni” the whole time,” Garrus retorted. The two of them chuckled for a moment at their private joke. The group slowly fought their way up to the top level, Garrus and the Winchesters providing covering fire while Castiel used his reprogrammed cloak to ambush stragglers and Shepard cleared the containment pod at each floor. On the top floor, three squads of Cerberus troops were waiting for them. Shepard super-charged a knot of troopers, following up his charge by shooting blue-black energy waves from his hand to stagger them and make them easier to pick off before running back into cover.

Sam popped up to take a potshot with a heavy pistol, when he saw a gigantic mechanized artillery platform turning to face him. “Crap!” He dropped back down just in time to dodge a missile that exploded into the pillar next to him, then popped up again to fire off an Overload charge that crackled over the mech’s shields. Castiel de-cloaked just behind the mech and unloaded into its engine with a pair of modified heavy pistols while Shepard fired off a couple of shots from his heavy shotgun before charging two more Cerberus troopers. The mech started to shudder, and Castiel dove behind another pillar right before the mech exploded in a spray of sparking, flaming shrapnel.

The shuttle set down, and Wrex came barrelling out to shove Mordin out of the way before helping the female krogan out of the containment pod. Two troopers came around a corner and levelled their assault rifles at the group on the shuttle pad, and the female grabbed Wrex’s shotgun from him. She fired off two shots, hitting both troopers, before shoving the shotgun back into the surprised warlord’s hands. “I can take care of myself Wrex,” she snarled before walking toward the shuttle. Cortez said something to her and smiled, and the female bowed graciously before taking a seat.

“The lady’s waiting,” Cortez called from inside the shuttle. “Hurry up, or the bus will leave without you!” Shepard heard a gurgling sound from behind him, and he walked over to a trooper that was still alive.

“Why is Cerberus doing this?!” he demanded. “What does the Illusive Man want?” The trooper gurgled out an attempt at a reply and slumped back with a final sigh. Shepard shook his head and brought back his right foot as if to deliver a kick. He put his foot down and turned, walking back to the shuttle.

The ride back to the Normandy was silent until Dean asked one question: “OK, so what’s the deal with this Cerberus outfit, anyway?”

Shepard grimaced. “Pro-human splinter group,” he explained, spitting out the words. “But not in a good way. Their leader, the Illusive Man, likes to subvert science. He thinks he can ‘control’ the Reapers, and from what I saw on Mars he’s started turning his own people into husks.”

Garrus quipped, “Sounds like he’s indoctrinated, or close to it--that can only end well for him.” The comment dripped sarcasm. “Basically, Cerberus wants humanity to rule the galaxy--Shepard and I have seen what they do. Experimenting on children, turning an entire colony into husks, massacring an entire marine squad by luring them into a thresher maw nest, torturing an autistic child to try creating an AI-human hybrid...even bringing the rachni back from the dead.”

“And me,” Shepard added. “The only good thing I can say about them is that they managed to resurrect me from the dead, and gave me the resources to take down the Collectors.” He sighed and leaned back against the bulkhead. “But they’re not on anyone’s side except their own.”

“So they’re a bunch of mooks,” Dean said, “trying to take over the galaxy on behalf of a power-hungry dick.” He looked over to Sam and Castiel. “Sounds like Crowley.”

Shepard chuckled softly, a slight smile cracking his face. “I’ve never heard them described that way before--but I know at least one person that would agree with that assessment.”

“Jack,” Garrus laughed. “Dean, you would love her. Snarky, loves her alcohol, doesn’t take shit...She doesn’t need a gun to kill you though--she can kill you with her mind.” Dean got an uncomfortable look on his face. “Relax,” the turian assured him, “she’ll only do it if you’re with Cerberus.”


	9. Mystic Rhythms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy Novak makes an appearance to Castiel, and makes an interesting discovery that damn near gets him and Cas killed (and almost causes a diplomatic incident). Dean talks to Eve, and makes a friend. And Shepard explains the nature of biotics. Also, pie.

Castiel went to engineering and sat down just outside the drive core chamber when they got back from Sur’kesh. The thrumming of the engine had drawn him in, and he watched the waves of energy radiating from the core as they made subtle patterns in the mist from the cooling units arrayed around it. He felt the humming of dark energy through every fiber of his body, felt it echoing through his soul. Jimmy’s soul.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Cas turned his head to see himself sitting there. Or was it? He didn’t know. “The power to manipulate. To destroy. To move.” It was Jimmy, sitting next to him in his dark suit. “Is this what God uses?” Cas grimaced at the mention of his Father. “Sorry,” Jimmy said. “Didn’t mean to bring Him up.”

“You’re not here,” the angel commented. “You can’t be.”

“Actually, I am here.” Jimmy shot back, somewhat acidly. “I’ve always been here, Castiel, and you know it.” He pointed to the angel’s heart when he said it. “All the times you died, I died with you. All the times that God brought you back, He brought me back too. You’re very special to Him.” Cas closed his eyes for a moment and felt a faint rush of energy. He opened his eyes and looked to see Jimmy still sitting there. “He wants you to learn. To understand.”

“Understand what?” Castiel pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped himself in his--Jimmy’s--trenchcoat.

“I don’t know.” Jimmy shrugged. “Things. What it means to be human, maybe?” He quickly stood up and vaulted over the railing that blocked access to the drive core’s chamber, walking around the core housing. Castiel stood and tried to catch him, almost pitching himself face-first over the rail. Jimmy danced from cooling unit to cooling unit, coolant mist swirling in his wake. “Hey,” he asked, “what do you think will happen if I touch this?” He reached out toward the drive core housing, and Castiel suddenly felt like he was being torn apart at the seams.

“NO!” He yelled, reaching over the railing. All of a sudden, the angel felt himself broken down into subatomic particles, leptons and quarks and bosons all swirling around each other and coming together briefly before detaching again. He felt Jimmy Novak’s soul at the center of his being like the core of a galaxy, and reached out to him, the matter reaching out to the singularity that holds it all together, and suddenly he was everywhere on the ship. He tried to call to Dean, and saw him look up from the Normandy’s armory bench. He heard EDI giggle in her co-pilot’s seat as he raced through her circuitry at faster-than-light speeds. 

Castiel plucked threads of dark energy like the strings on a harp, and Shepard jumped as he came out of the shower, flaring bright blue and barely managing to catch himself before he charged headlong into his aquarium. Wrex spun around in surprise, barriers flaring, and almost unleashed a shockwave on a very shocked Garrus and the turian Primarch. A nova of dark energy erupted from Liara before she could stop it, sending the monitors in her quarters flying and shorting out her VI drone. Bluish-black became actinic white, and the ship’s hum became the shrill speech of angels just before the lights went out.

Adams heard a shout and turned just in time to see a huge arc of electricity lash out from the Normandy’s drive core and hit Castiel, who staggered back a few steps before falling to the deck. He ran to to the angel’s body as alarms and klaxons started sounding all over the ship and the lights dipped briefly. “Karin!” he shouted, “I have a man down in Engineering! Donnelly, Daniels--hit the emergency ESD bleed!” Adams knelt next to Castiel and ripped his shirt open so he could perform CPR. He furiously compressed the angel’s chest and blew air into him. “Come on, live damn you! Live!” Chakwas popped out of the emergency shaft that ran from the AI Core to Engineering, a defibrillator device in one hand and a nonconductive blanket the other. She quickly laid the blanket on the deck next to Castiel and rolled him onto it, then attached the defibrillator to his chest and touched a button.

“Clear!” The defibrillator shocked him once, then again after ten seconds, and began to beep slowly as Castiel’s heartbeat returned. Chakwas breathed a sigh of relief. “Greg, help me get him up. I’ll have to get him to the medbay.” Adams and two crewmen helped get Castiel on a hovering stretcher that Mordin brought down from the medbay, then guided it out of Engineering and toward the elevator. The doors opened, and Dean came out. He saw Castiel on the stretcher, and a look of horror crossed his face.

“Oh crap...” He grimaced and looked down at Castiel. “What happened?”

“He took a nasty shock from the drive core,” Chakwas said quietly, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “He’s alive, but he’ll need to stay in the medbay for a while.” She turned to Adams. “Did you see what happened?”

“Om...” The fallen angel groaned from the stretcher before Adams could reply. He reached up to Dean and smiled, caressing Dean’s face. “Om sal voch teh...”

“Easy Cas, stay with me. You’re going to be OK.” He took Castiel’s hand and walked alongside the stretcher. “It’s going to be okay.” Castiel closed his eyes, still smiling. “Cas?”

Chakwas scanned Castiel with her Omni-Tool. “He’s unconscious, but alive.” The elevator opened. “Dean, I will take good care of him.” The doctor put a firm hand on Dean's shoulder, and he turned his attention to her. “He’ll be fine, I’m sure of it. I’ve got to get him to the medbay, and I’m sure that after what happened in Engineering, Shepard will have some questions.”

Shepard was waiting for them when they came out of the elevator. Chakwas and Dean rushed Castiel into the medbay and transferred him from the portable stretcher to one of the stable beds next to the krogan female, who Mordin had dubbed “Eve”. The krogan watched impassively for a moment, then hopped down from her bed after Chakwas stepped away. She reached out to Castiel and stroked his hair, then looked to Dean. The corners of her eyes crinkled as if she were smiling underneath her veil. “Your friend looks untroubled,” Eve said quietly. “I sense concern from you, however. A lifetime spent caring for others, but not enough time caring for yourself.”

Dean looked down to Cas. “It’s my job.” He sighed. “It sucks, it’s a big steaming pile of crap, but I do it because it’s the job.” 

Castiel started snoring lightly, which made Eve chuckle. “I think he’ll be just fine.” Dean looked back at the krogan. She towered over him. Her eyes were gold, as opposed to Wrex’s red eyes. The heavy veil was more a headdress. A peaked portion covering her forehead was decorated with an elaborate brocaded design, and three golden cords looped down over each eye. “Does my appearance shock you?” she asked.

“No...no. I’ve just, uh...well, you and Wrex are the only krogan I’ve ever actually met. Where I’m from, we, uh...it’s just us. Humans.” Dean stuck out his hand. “I’m Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester.”

Eve shook his hand. “I surrendered my name the day I became a shaman of the female clan,” she said. “But one day, when this is over, perhaps you may know it.” She hopped back up on her bed. “I myself have met very few humans." Eve pulled her legs up and leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

“What do you do as a shaman?” Dean asked.

“I offer counsel and guidance, but mostly I remember the old ways,” Eve replied. “I keep the history of the krogan alive, so that one day my people may remember who they were and be proud again, rather than spend their lives wandering the stars and fighting others’ battles for them.” She quirked an eyebrow. “But I am curious about you, Dean. I get the feeling that you're not like everyone else on the ship.”

“I’m from Kansas,” Dean said. “It’s a place on Earth. Wide plains, farmland...but my brother and I, we kinda go all over the place.” He sighed and patted Castiel’s hand. “Cas here, he does too, in his own way. He wants to help people, like Sammy and I do.” Before he realized it, Dean started telling Eve about his parents, about Sam and Cas and the job. He showed her his anti-possession tattoo and talked about the Apocalypse and the angels, about Bobby, Ellen and Jo, Ash, Gabriel finally standing up to his own family when he realized that things didn’t have to be set in stone, and his wager with Death to get Sam’s soul out of the Cage. The krogan listened raptly as Dean talked about the Leviathans, his year in Purgatory, and the Batcave that they inherited from their paternal grandfather. 

“It sounds like you have had a life full of adventure,” Eve said. “When it is over, will you start a family of your own?”

“I tried that, once.” Dean’s voice broke when he told her about Lisa and Ben and the apple-pie life that he tried to have until The Job pulled him away for good. “I just want a normal life,” he said. “Or if I can’t, I want Sammy to have it...” Dean rubbed his eyes. 

Eve got down from the bed and put her arms around Dean in a motherly embrace. She kissed the top of his head through her veil and gently stroked his hair. “It took a lot to share that with me Dean,” she said quietly after several minutes. “It’s never easy to lose people that you care for, but know that every moment that you live, every battle that you fight brings honour to your fallen loved ones.” She stepped back and put a hand on Dean’s heart. “They are not here physically, but you carry them with you every day. Let them give you strength, as my sisters who died give me strength.”

Shepard had come into the medbay while Eve and Dean were talking. He stood and listened to Dean pouring his heart out to the shaman for a few minutes before he turned and walked out. Sam was sitting in the mess watching through the window, and looked over when Shepard came over to his table and sat down. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Shepard murmured. “I, uh, felt like I was interrupting.” He sat there fidgeting for several uncomfortable seconds before getting up and going to the kitchen, rummaging around in the refrigerator until he found a few zip-sealed packages that he tossed onto the counter along with a couple of squeeze containers and a box. “You hungry, Sam?”

“Huh?” Sam turned his head toward the kitchen. “Oh, no thanks--already had something.” He looked back to the medbay and saw Dean walk out, reddened puffy eyes the only indication of what happened. “You going to be ok? How's Cas?” Dean nodded and sat down.

“Cas is asleep,” Dean rasped. “Apparently he decided to get too close to the ship’s drive core and got zapped a bit.” He cleared his throat and shook his head. “According to the doc, he was damn lucky that he didn’t flat die--but he’ll be out of commission for a while.” Movement to his right made Dean look over just in time to see Shepard set a piece of berry pie in front of him, along with a fork and a bottle of beer. 

Shepard went back to the kitchen and got out a baguette, which he sliced down the middle and started piling with various things from the packages he fished out of the refrigerator. “You guys sure you don’t want anything?” Sam and Dean just watched Shepard make his sandwich.

Sam looked at the sandwich when Shepard brought it over to the table with a bottle of fruit juice, and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re not going to eat that whole thing, are you?” Shepard sat down and took a bite, nodding and washing it down with the drink.

“Mmmhmm. I kinda have to. Biotics are a serious drain on the system. If I don’t eat, I’ll wind up burning myself out. Normally I carry energy bars and a bottle or two of a biotic energy drink into the field, but since I didn’t think I’d need them on Sur’kesh I’m having this now.” Shepard wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Cas going to be okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” He and Shepard ate in silence for a few minutes while Sam fiddled with his Omni-Tool. “Is Eve gonna live?” Dean finally asked, setting his fork down on the plate.

“Mordin hopes so.” Shepard looked back through the windows of the medbay, where Mordin was fussing over another blood test. “I hope so, too--Wrex is going to need her.” He looked back to Dean. “But right now I’m way more concerned with you. Are you going to be okay?” Dean grimaced, and Shepard leaned over the table and put a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me, Dean. You’re a member of my crew now, and I wouldn’t be a very good commander if I just ignored you. If you don’t want to talk, I get that. But I want you to know that I’m here for you.” 

Dean reached up and patted Shepard’s hand, half-smiling, and nodded. “Thanks.” He took a deep breath and sighed, then took a swig of beer. “Hmm--pretty good.” He took another swig, and slowly set the bottle down. “So...that trick you did on Sur’kesh, where you knocked all those guys over? What the hell was that?”

“Biotics. My mom was exposed to element zero when she was pregnant with me, thanks to a drive-core accident. So I was born with eezo nodes embedded in my nervous system, and I’m one of those lucky people that can generate mass effect fields to do different things.”

“So it’s like magic,” Sam interjected. “Sort of.”

Shepard nodded. “That’s one way to put it. I’ve got an implant at the base of my skull that amplifies and helps me focus my abilities. So do Liara and Wrex...Kaidan too. Combine that implant with years of specialized training, and you’ve got a biotic. Though we do different things. Liara can create micro-singularities that lift people off the ground, or hold them in place so they can’t move. Kaidan can warp gravity around a target to tear it apart, or send it flying--sometimes both. I’m a bit more up close and personal.”

“The super-charge,” Dean observed.

“Yeah. And the shockwaves. The big drawback to being a biotic is that you have to eat a lot, to keep your electrolytes and blood sugar at normal levels. Or, like I said, you can burn yourself out.” Shepard took a deep swig from his energy drink and grimaced. “I’ve seen it happen. The body consumes itself because it has no other source of energy--It’s not pretty.”

“Shepard!” Wrex tromped into the mess from the elevator, looking very agitated. “There was almost a diplomatic incident in the War Room!” He stomped over to the table where Shepard was sitting with Sam and Dean. “It felt like somebody was messing with my amp--I almost creamed half the War Room without even intending to!”

“Oh shit,” Shepard said. “Wrex...”

“Oh relax,” Wrex said, waving his hand dismissively, “Nobody got hurt. Garrus is busy smoothing the whole thing over with the Primarch right now. But it damn near got real messy, real quick.” He hrrumphed in annoyance.

“Stannis...” The three men and the krogan turned to see Liara standing there. “I could use your help with something.” Dean and Sam looked at each other. Sam mouthed, _Stannis_? to Dean, who shrugged. “Actually, I think all of you may want to see this. There was an...accident in my quarters.” They got up from the table and followed Liara, who opened the door to her quarters to reveal what looked like the aftermath of a tornado.

“What the hell?” Shepard walked in and picked up the shell of Liara’s drone, holding it in his hands like a crystal basketball. “It looks like there was an explosion here.” He walked farther into the room, carefully stepping around a wrecked information terminal, and laid the shell on the bed.

“There was,” Liara explained. “A biotic one. About the same time that the power dipped across the ship, something rather explosively triggered my biotics--and it wasn’t me.” She sighed and looked at the wall where her monitors had been mounted. Several were smashed beyond repair, most of the rest were either scattered on the floor or hanging by wires from the wall. The only monitor that survived intact was the large central monitor. The asari picked one of the smashed monitors up and sighed again. Dean and Sam looked at each other for a moment before quietly starting to clean up the mess.

“Shepard,” EDI said over the intercom, “I was also subject to a “disturbance”--and I believe I have uncovered the source. Liara, may I use your central viewscreen?”

Liara tapped a few commands on her Omni-Tool. “Go ahead, EDI. I’m curious as to what happened.”

A picture popped up on the screen of Castiel sitting in the Engine Room watching the Drive Core. EDI started playback, and the five of them watched Cas stand up and reach out toward the drive core. A lightning bolt shot out from the core’s housing and struck Castiel’s outstretched hand, and EDI froze the picture. “I found this quite interesting,” the AI commented. “It occurred right before my feed from Engineering went dark.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean and Sam whispered at the same time. Castiel was enveloped in dark energy, a large pair of blue-black feathery wings spreading out from his back.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Wrex rumbled, looking to the Winchesters. “Looks like somebody’s got a little explaining to do.”


	10. Animate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean head to Tuchanka. Castiel takes his new wings for a test drive. And some crazy crazy shit goes down.

Dean rubbed his temples. “So what do you think? Cas have his mojo back?” He sighed deeply and leaned back against the rear bulkhead of the shuttle, briefly fidgeting with the belt on his uniform before closing his eyes and listening for Sam to reply to him. The plating on the shoulders of his tactical armour and the stock of his collapsed sniper rifle dug uncomfortably into his back.

“What I’m more concerned with is whether or not he’s dangerous. You saw how he was acting the first time he saw a mass relay up close when we took our field trip to the Citadel--it was like he was in some kind of trance, waiting for orders.” Sam stood and started counting out thermal clips, which he stashed in the leg-pouches of his armour before busying himself checking over his pistol and shotgun.

“What,” Dean commented, eyes still closed. “You mean like when Naomi was controlling him?”

“Exactly--and that can’t be good. If his mojo is powered by dark energy, or worse, if he’s...what’d Liara call it--indoctrinated by the Reapers, then for all we know he could be some kind of Anti-Cas that’ll be more trouble than the Reapers and Cerberus put together.” Sam sat down next to his brother and sighed.

Dean opened his eyes and looked over at Sam. His brother was staring down at the deck of the shuttle, holding his hair back with one hand, an elastic band in the fingers of his free hand. “So what do you suggest we do then?" Dean asked, voice heavy with exasperation. "Hell, if Cas does go rogue, we don’t even know if the angel blades will kill him. Death isn’t even around for us to beg for help--and he as much as said that if we try to call him again he’ll kill us. Maybe we should just leave him be and take our chances.”

“But this isn’t even our world, Dean.” Sam looked up, focusing on a spot near the front of the shuttle. “We’re playing with fire--again--and this time we might wind up burning the whole damn galaxy down.”

Dean scratched his forehead for a second and sighed. “Then we’ll have to make it up as we go along, just like last time. It sucks, but we can’t really do much else.”

“Yeah,” Sam said softly. “I guess so.” He started to tie his hair back in a short ponytail.

 

Shepard tried to get answers out of the turian Primarch in the War Room, but had been stonewalled. All the Primarch would say was that his request concerned “a matter of galactic peace”, and that it was absolutely vital that the turians be able to complete their mission. Shepard stepped onto the shuttle with Garrus and Vega, followed up by Cortez, who hopped into the pilot’s seat as the door closed behind him.

“We’re looking for the Ninth Platoon,” Shepard explained as the shuttle left the bay and began its descent to the krogan homeworld. “They’re being commanded by Lieutenant Tarquin Victus--the Primarch’s son. They were on a covert mission on Tuchanka. Our mission is to find them, rescue the survivors, and rendezvous with Lieutenant Victus and his men.”

Garrus gave a half-snort. “For a turian commander, what happened here is...let's just say the turian code is not forgiving. And that it's his son is bad for the Primarch. Promoting family without merit can bite you in the ass.” He wrinkled his nose. “What's strange is the Primarch knows that.”

Shepard nodded. “He told me that he needed somebody he could trust completely. It seemed a bit odd to me as well.” He turned to Sam and Dean. “Congratulations, by the way. If you ever get back to your world, you can tell your friends you set foot on two--possibly more--alien planets. Assuming, of course, that the Reapers don’t blow us all up first.”

“How’s Castiel doing, by the way?” Garrus’ voice carried a note of concern. “I heard what happened to him.”

Sam shrugged. “He’s unconscious and in the medbay,” he said. “And we’re kinda worried about him. You saw how he was in some kind of trance when he saw his first mass relay, and he was spending time around the ship’s drive core a lot too. After what you told us about the Reapers being behind it, we’re hoping he’s not becoming indoctrinated.”

Shepard shook his head. “Indoctrination doesn’t really work like that--but I understand the concern. When Cas wakes up, I’ll have Dr. Chakwas give him a psych eval to make sure that the shock he got didn’t scramble his cognitive functions. If he shows signs of indoctrination, well...we’ll deal with that. If it happens.”

 

In the Normandy’s medbay, Castiel’s eyes snapped open. He sat up and looked at Mordin, who was currently running a test on a blood sample, and then at Eve. He got up from his bed and stood there for a moment, looking around the room. Eve reached out from her bed and gently put a hand on his shoulder. “You should rest,” she said.

Castiel looked over at Eve for a moment, studying her. His eyes glowed blue-black, and a brilliant biotic aura blossomed over him. He reached up and gently took Eve’s hand from his shoulder. He smiled, patted her hand and gave it a slight squeeze, then vanished with the sound of rustling wings.

 

“Commander,” Cortez called back from the cockpit. “We’ll have to land well back from the main crash site. On the plus side, the Reapers don’t seem to know we’re here.” Shepard nodded, and Cortez set the shuttle down.

“EDI,” Shepard said into his commlink after they got off the shuttle, “can you raise Lieutenant Victus?”

“Yes, but the connection is bad.”

“Patch me in.” The sound of a pitched gun battle came over everyone’s comm units.

“This is Lieutenant Victus of the Ninth Platoon. We’re under fire, my men are scattered...”

“Lieutenant,” Shepard said, “I need you to fire a flare so I can locate your position.” He looked up to see a flare streaking bright red into the sky. “Got it--we should be there shortly.” Shepard waved the squad forward, taking point.

“Damn,” Dean observed as they walked past crumbling walls and fallen columns, “This place looks like a war zone.” He reached down and picked up a pebble from the ground, which he put in the same pocket as the pebble he picked up on Sur’kesh.

“Probably because it is,” Garrus quipped as the group picked their way through rubble. “That said: a turian mission on Tuchanka is especially odd. Thoughts?”

“You’re the turian, you tell us,” Vega said.

Garrus shrugged. “I got nothing, Lieutenant.”

Shepard put up a hand, signalling the squad to stop. He pointed to a small group of husks that were hunkered down over something. Dean raised his sniper rifle and prepared to take a potshot, but Garrus stopped him and pointed to Shepard, whose barrier flared bright blue right before he charged into the husks, the force of his charge blasting them into chunks.

“I will never get used to that,” Dean whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. Shepard led them up a ladder toward some wreckage. Several turian soldiers were lying on the ground, their exposed skin partially mauled. One of them was half-in/half-out of the wreckage.

“There’s one of the escape pods. Our first casualties.” Shepard gave the bodies a cursory examination. “Looks like the pod got taken down by a harvester. What do you think--died in the crash?”

Vega shrugged. “Either that, or they got pulled out and chewed on by husks.” He grimaced. “Not a good way to go.” Shepard jogged up ahead a few meters and peeked around another corner, then signaled for the squad to stop.

“OK,” he half-whispered, “I’ve got a visual on the enemy, and there’s another escape pod up ahead. They don’t see us, so we can get the jump on them.”

“Surprise on our side for once,” Garrus commented. “I like it.” He and Dean nodded to each other and dropped down behind a fallen hunk of concrete. Dean dialed up the armor-piercing function on his sniper rifle and drew a bead on a marauder. He squeezed off a shot that punched through the creature’s shields and took its head off in one blow, with Garrus dropping two cannibals. Shepard charged in with his shotgun out, Vega right behind with his own shotgun to help clean up the remaining attackers. An escape pod had crashed on the other side of a wide gap, but unlike the first pod these soldiers were okay. Shepard opened his mouth to say something when one of the turians pointed before scattering to cover.

“Harvester! Incoming harvester!” A giant winged creature that had pretty clearly been altered by the Reapers landed and started firing down on the turians. Shepard and Vega unhooked their assault rifles and started firing on it. Dean and Garrus did the same, with Sam popping off shots from his heavy pistol and hitting the harvester with repeated overload jolts until the creature finally flew off.

“Thanks for the assist,” one of the soldiers called out, “We’ll take it from here.” Shepard nodded and led the squad further through the ruins.

“Not one left behind,” Vega crowed.

“Commander, come in!” Victus sounded frantic, the sound of gunfire in the background getting heavier. “What’s your ETA?”

“We’re en route, Ninth Platoon. We’ll be there ASAP.” Shepard signaled the squad to step on it.

“I don’t know how Victus is going to live this down.” Garrus’ mandibles clicked when he said it. “It’s a big military name on Palaven, war’s expected to run in the Victus blood.” Sam and Dean looked at each other.

“That’s not always a good thing--you have to make your own name,” Vega’s comment caused Dean to look back at him for a moment.

“Not that easy, man. You can try, but for some of us it always seems like there’s something pulling you back in.” He sighed and shrugged his left shoulder, trying to scratch an itch through his hardsuit.

Vega nodded. “I guess you’re right--but you still gotta try to make your own name rather than just going with what people think you should do.” He shook his head. “Even if you go into the family business, you need to be your own man rather than copy somebody else.” The group came around another corner to run into a group of husks and cannibals, accompanied by another harvester and a trio of marauders. Sam staggered the cannibals with a chained blast from his overload program, giving Shepard time to rush into the middle of the group before leaping into the air and smacking a fist on the ground to detonate his barriers. The biotic blast sent the cannibals flying, and Shepard ducked behind a pile of rubble for a moment before charging out to knock over one of the marauders with help from Vega. Dean and Garrus drove off the harvester and took a headcount before scouting ahead.

“I think we saved all those men,” Garrus announced.

“Good.” Shepard led the group forward. “Let’s make sure they have a rendezvous point to make it to.”

The last fight was a pitched battle against a harvester, and several dozen cannibals, husks, and marauders that were accompanied by a hulking monstrosity with crablike metallic claws that looked like a mutated cross between a turian and a krogan. After dispatching the smaller creatures and the crab-monster, the group turned its full fire on the harvester until it exploded in a brilliant red nova.

A turian wearing white facepaint jumped down and approached the group. “Commander, thank you.”

“What’s with the facepaint?” Dean whispered to Garrus.

“It marks a turian’s birthplace or, if they’re in the military, their unit. All these soldiers are wearing the markings of the Ninth Platoon. Word of advice: Never trust a bare-faced turian.” Dean nodded. He opened his mouth to ask another question when another soldier leapt down and grabbed the first one by the lapels.

“He screwed up!” the soldier said angrily.

“Stand down!” the first one replied, putting a foot down to stand his ground.

The angry soldier shook him. “You’ll pay for this, Victus!”

“I said stand down!”

“Enough!” Shepard stepped in and separated them. “Focus your anger on the Reapers, not each other.” He took Victus aside and waved Sam and Dean over to check on the crash survivors. “Lieutenant, what was your mission here?”

“There’s a bomb buried here--Cerberus has it.”

“Cerberus?” Shepard set his jaw. “Then we have to get it away from them.”

“We’ve taken too many losses--what am I supposed to tell my men?” Victus turned to look at the remainder of the Ninth Platoon. His shoulders fell. “I’ve failed them, Commander.”

“No,” Shepard said. “You haven’t. Appeal to their honour and remind them of what’s at stake, and they’ll listen to you. My squad and I will help you complete your mission.” He helpfully patted the turian lieutenant on the shoulder. Victus went to talk to his men, and the Winchesters walked back to Shepard and Garrus.

“Cerberus, eh?” Garrus’ mandibles clicked. “This mission just gets better and better.”

 

He was free again. Once more he was a wavelength of celestial intent, skipping through rivers of stellar dust at the speed of thought, unencumbered by the demands of a celestial bureaucracy that had long ago decided to ignore its divine mission. He no longer felt helpless, the way he did when Metatron stole his grace and cast him and the other angels out of Heaven. Indeed, he now felt like he could help his Father’s creations again--to do what He had asked of His eldest children before leaving them to watch over His creation.

He heard the cries of anguish and fear from a small blue-green planet, and knew what he had to do. Purpose drove him down through the atmosphere, a single word running through his mind as the wavelength took form:

Help.

**Dateline: Elysium (ANN)**

**Colonists evacuating the Reaper-occupied colony of Elysium report “a miracle” taking place outside the colony’s main spaceport. According to reports, an unidentified man described as having “burning blue eyes and wings” and wearing a long coat appeared outside the planet’s main spaceport and drew off Reaper forces with intense biotic attacks, allowing colonists time to evacuate. One unidentified witness reported seeing Reaper ground troops bursting into flame after being touched by the unnamed man, but these reports cannot be substantiated at this time.**

 

“So,” Shepard said as the shuttle flew toward the coordinates provided by the turians, “tell me about this Cerberus bomb.”

“It’s not Cerberus, Commander,” Victus said. “It’s...turian.” Dean and Sam looked at each other incredulously, and Shepard’s shoulders drooped a bit. “It was planted on Tuchanka during the Krogan Rebellions,” the turian lieutenant added.

“Brutal,” Garrus said, “but it makes a certain kind of sense--put the krogan down hard if they tried anything.”

“You won’t earn trust with tactics like that,” Shepard said with a bit of irritation.

“I know, Commander--but if this bomb goes off, it means all-out war between my people and the krogan.”

“Then we can’t fail.”

“Agreed, Commander. May the spirits watch over us all.”

Shepard turned to face his squad. “Welcome to my job,” he quipped somewhat acidly. “Cleaning up other people’s messes.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “But I’ll do it, because--” Sam and Dean joined him in saying “--it’s the job.” The three of them nodded in understanding.

“Shepard,” Cortez said, “there’s heavy Cerberus resistance at the landing zone. We’ll be coming in hot.”

Shepard unhooked his shotgun and expanded it. “Let’s get ready to move, people!” The cabin echoed with the sound of bullets pinging off the shuttle’s exterior. The door popped open to reveal Cerberus troops dug in and putting up heavy resistance. Shepard led the squad out, punching a hole in the Cerberus defences by charging into knots of troopers. The five soldiers fought a running battle back to a ruined building that stood between them and the bomb site.

On the second floor of the building, Shepard poked his head around a corner and saw an engineer setting up a turret. The group scattered into cover, and Sam popped up when the turret was recharging to activate a hack program that made the turret turn its next salvo on the engineer and a trooper standing next to him. He popped up again and fired a heavy overload blast, detonating the turret. The blast jumped from the turret to a nearby centurion, dropping his shields long enough for Dean to take him down with a burst from his assault rifle.

“Commander, we’re getting heavy Cerberus resistance,” Victus radioed. “We’re taking heavy losses.”

“We’re encountering heavy resistance here too, Ninth Platoon. We’re moving as fast as we can.” Shepard charged a trooper using a heavy riot shield, staggering him long enough to blast him in the face with his shotgun. Around another corner, they saw Cerberus troopers jumping onto a shuttle, which quickly lifted off. “Looks like Cerberus is bugging out! Let’s move, people!”

“We unleash a plague on the krogan, then bury a bomb on their planet.” Garrus sounded slightly irritated. “Brutal, but those were desperate times.”

“Sounds like turians and humans have a lot more in common than we think,” Vega mused. The group picked up the pace, trotting forward through the remaining Cerberus troops. “They’re fighting a delaying action,” Vega observed. “Trying to keep us from the bomb.”

“Then we’ll just have to push harder,” Shepard retorted. To punctuate his point, he charged a fleeing centurion and unleashed a shockwave salvo to send him flying over the side of the building to the ground below. The last Cerberus shuttle took off as the squad arrived at the top floor. Shepard fired off a slug from his shotgun that hit one of the shuttle’s rear thrusters, sending it into a wobble before it crashed into a corner of the ruined wall and plummeted to the ground.

“Holy crap,” Dean said, “That’s a big-ass bomb!” Four enormous pylons held a pulsating collar around a bulbous device that glowed soft blue-white. The device was parked over a deep pit.

“It must have been buried deep,” Shepard said. “Cerberus would have had to dig it out.” He climbed up a ladder and popped over a wall, then charged through an Engineer. He turned and charged again, plastering two Centurions head-first into a column en route to hopping over a hunk of concrete and rebar. Three troopers popped up with electrified spikes in hand, rearing back to deliver a strike, when their heads exploded. Shepard turned to see Dean, Garrus, and Vega with their assault rifles levelled at where the troopers had been standing. “Thanks,” he said. “It’s a clear shot to the bomb--let’s move!”

The squad slid down a ladder and picked its way across a fallen column to where Cerberus had set up a console next to the bomb. Lieutenant Victus was typing commands into the console, and the two remaining members of his platoon stood guard near an opening to a maze of rubble. Garrus and Dean swapped to their sniper rifles, and took up positions on either side of the opening.

“Cerberus has this console locked,” Victus said. “I’ll have to program a bypass.” Dean spotted movement on the other side of the maze, but before he could shout a warning two shots felled the turian soldiers.

“Do it,” Shepard shouted, “We’ll cover you--James, Sam, you’re with me!” Two Cerberus shuttles coasted in and deposited groups of soldiers that made their way through the rubble toward the squad. Dean and Garrus picked targets and started dropping enemies, with James and Sam laying down covering fire and Shepard charging all over the battlefield. Another wave of Cerberus mooks dropped in, supported this time by an Atlas. Sam popped off three overload blasts to drop the mech’s shields, and Dean popped two shots at the canopy which spidered the glass. A final shot from Garrus punched through. The mech’s canopy popped open, and the pilot’s body rolled out and fell to the ground with a hole through his chest.

“Spirits!” Victus spat. A timer had popped up on the console, counting down from 60 seconds. “Cerberus put in a failsafe--the bomb’s going to go off if I don’t disconnect the detonator manually!” He jumped over the wall to the right of his console and climbed the ladder to the top of the bomb. He punched in a command on a console, and the centre of the device opened up. Victus ran over and turned a magnetic locking pin three times then pulled it up. The first three pylons disengaged, but the fourth started to spark. Victus ran over and opened a cover on the pylon, pulling out two large pins. The bulbous glowing detonator fell out of the centre of the bomb and down into the pit with the Lieutenant still on it. The timer reached 0, and the detonator exploded at the bottom of the pit, sending a shower of dust and dirt into the air. The collar of the bomb remained in the air, supported by the last pylon.

“Cortez,” Shepard quietly spoke into his comm unit, “The bomb’s disarmed. Come get us.”

The ride back was mostly uncomfortably silent until EDI hailed the shuttle. “Shepard, krogan forces are moving in. They won’t allow the turians to recover the bomb. Also, the Primarch is requesting an update on your mission.” Shepard sighed.

“Turians took heavy casualties,” he replied. “The Primarch’s son included.”

Garrus nodded. "He never hesitated. Whatever he was before,” he said, “he'll be remembered for this."

Shepard looked up. “What will your people think of the situation?”

"Hard to say. Sacrifice in war is expected. He did us proud, but... we're a hard bunch to please. Living your life for the cause, society first, platoon first. It's just all expected for a turian.” Garrus shook his head. “To say that Wrex will be upset about this, by the way, is an understatement.”

“Don’t remind me.” Shepard sat back and looked up at the ceiling.

 

A large yellow-and-white Cerberus cruiser popped in-system and pulled up alongside the space station. Its shuttle bay opened, and four shuttles started to fly out, accompanied by a small squadron of fighters.

The first three shuttles landed on the station, disgorging Cerberus troops. The fourth shuttle broke apart before it cleared the cruiser. In the cruiser’s engine room, a small white star burst into existence next to the ship’s drive core. The star moved toward the eezo core and enveloped it, triggering alarms throughout the ship. Power dropped throughout the ship as the core vanished, and white-hot flame shot through all the decks, tearing the ship apart from the inside.

A brilliant bluish-white light exploded in the station’s shuttle bay shortly after the third shuttle landed, accompanied by a keening shrill that cracked the windows. Soldiers screamed in pain and collapsed to the deck, leaving their commander alone with a human in a long tan coat with eyes that blazed with blue-black flame and wings that rippled out from his body.

The Cerberus commander pulled his sidearm and fired twice--the shots bounced off the human, who advanced on him with anger etched on his face. The stranger reached out and clapped his hand on the top of the commander’s head. Blue-white light streamed from the commander’s eyes and mouth, and burned out from under the skin on his face and body, tracing implants and circuitry. The commander collapsed to the deck with smoke coming from his burned-out eye sockets. The stranger looked up at the camera above the exit from the shuttle bay and smiled before vanishing with the sound of flapping wings.

 


	11. Deus Ex Biotica

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's back! Castiel pays a visit to Grissom Academy. Team Free Will meets Thane. And Udina, of course, just has to stick his nose into things.

Dean strolled into the medbay after showering. “Hey Cas!” Eve and Mordin were the only occupants of the medbay. “Cas?” Dean looked under beds and in a cabinet, then walked into the AI Core. “Cas? Come on man, this isn’t funny!” He walked out to see Eve looking at him. “Have you seen Cas anywhere?”

“He awoke while you were gone,” Eve said. “And left shortly afterward.”

“Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know, Dean,” Eve replied. “I’m sorry.” 

“Mordin?” Dean turned around to face the scientist.

Sam walked in. “Where’s Cas?” 

Mordin looked up from his microscope. “Sorry. Busy with genophage cure. Didn’t see.” The salarian scientist stroked his chin for a moment, then added, “Heard sound, however. Like bird taking flight.” 

Sam paced back and forth, hands on his head. “Oh crap. Did he say anything? Where he was going or what he was doing?”

Eve shook her head. “No. He vanished almost immediately after he woke up.”

Sam sighed. “Okay. Uh, thank you,” he said. He and Dean walked out of the medbay and went toward the elevator. The doors opened to reveal Shepard. “Hey.” 

“Hey. I was on my way to talk to you two.” Shepard sighed. He put his head back against the wall of the elevator and closed his eyes. “Hopefully, you’ll be a little easier to talk to than Wrex was.” 

“I take it he was a little upset at a giant nuke being buried on his planet for a thousand-plus years,” Dean quipped. 

“That’s an understatement. I was worried that I’d have to call Liara to come down and put him in a stasis field--fortunately, the Primarch’s apology and the fact that his own son died to keep that bomb from going off made it easier.” Shepard sighed again and opened his eyes, looking over at Sam. “EDI told me Cas vanished from the medbay. Eve or Mordin have any answers?” 

“No--all Eve could tell me was that he just vanished. Mordin apologized and said he wasn’t paying attention. Can’t say as I blame him, since he’s trying to cure a disease.” Sam shook his head and rubbed his temples. “You’re sure Cas isn’t indoctrinated?” 

“Pretty sure--indoctrination takes a while and requires direct prolonged exposure to a Reaper or a piece of Reaper technology. The mass relays and eezo don’t really count. Fortunately.” The elevator pinged its arrival at the Engineering deck. “Well,” Shepard said, “after you.” 

“So,” Shepard said quietly when they got to the Winchesters’ cots. “I’ve been asked to investigate a possible Cerberus attack on Grissom Academy--it’s a school for gifted children, including biotics. Ordinarily I’d let you come along, but I need you to sit this one out. If...when Castiel comes back, you two are the best ones to be here.” Dean tensed. “Dean,” Shepard continued, “I know that body language. I also know that you know the best thing is for you to stay here. If I find any sign of what happened to Castiel, you’ll be the first to know.” Sam sighed, and Shepard looked over at him. “You too, Sam.” 

“Shepard,” Joker paged, “We’ve reached Grissom Academy...you’ll want to come see this.” 

After a few seconds, EDI added, “Sam and Dean may wish to join us as well.” 

“I really don’t know what to say,” Joker said when the group got to the cockpit. “It’s like...well, like the Hand of God came down and slapped Cerberus.” He pointed out the windows of the cockpit at the debris field. “There was a cruiser here, judging from the wreckage. But all that’s left now is pieces and a few trashed fighters. The Academy is untouched.” A wrecked fighter floated a few meters off the starboard side, its pilot still strapped into the cockpit. 

“Scans indicate no trace of Element Zero, which would ordinarily be present after the destruction of a ship’s mass effect core,” EDI observed. “I find that rather remarkable.” She looked up at Shepard. “Also, it is worth noting that after Castiel had his accident with the Normandy’s mass effect core, the core’s total mass decreased by .00002 grams.” 

“And that’s significant how?” Shepard asked. 

“It is significant, because Castiel’s total mass increased by the same amount.” 

Sam and Dean looked at each other, then at Shepard. 

“Still want us to stay here?” Dean asked, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“Yes.” Shepard fixed Dean with a stern look. “The three of you are a part of my crew now, which makes Castiel my responsibility--let me find him. EDI, you’re with me. Page Liara and have her meet us in the shuttle bay.” He turned and walked out of the cockpit, EDI in tow. Joker turned his seat around. 

“You know guys, you are welcome to sit down,” he said, indicating a couple of seats near him. “My chair isn’t the only one that rotates.” Sam and Dean sat down in the navigators’ chairs on either side of the cockpit and turned them to face Joker. “So,” Joker said slowly, “an angel?” 

“Yeah, Cas is an angel.” Dean sighed. “He wants to help, but he’s like an overgrown child--like his heart’s in the right place, but he doesn’t quite get that he sometimes causes more problems than he solves.” 

“Right.” Joker looked back over his shoulder at the shuttle that was making its way to Grissom Academy, and sighed. 

“You ok?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “You look a little worried.”

“I...yeah. So, uh...EDI kinda told me what you and Eve talked about,” he said to Dean. “Y’know, before you went to Tuchanka. If it makes you feel any better, I lost my mom too, when I was younger. Not to a yellow-eyed demon or anything, but I still understand what it’s like to lose a parent.” 

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “You’re spying on us?” 

Joker put up his hands. “Hey whoa, EDI monitors everything--usually she doesn’t do anything with it, but she’s trying to understand what it’s like to be like us organics so she’s been paying closer attention. She didn’t mean anything by it, she just didn’t feel comfortable coming to ask you because it looked like you were kinda upset.” 

“That is correct, Dean.” EDI’s voice echoed in the cockpit. “I didn’t mean to cause offense.” Dean got a mildly perturbed look on his face, but said nothing. 

“I never got to know our mom,” Sam said, “except for the time that Cas sent us back to 1973 to keep a rogue angel from killing her.” He let out a deep sigh. “and then the angels wiped her memory, so...” 

Joker shook his head. “Really? No offense, but it sounds like the angels where you’re from are real asshats.” 

“That’s a big-ass understatement,” Dean commented. Movement caught his eye out the window, and he stood. “What the hell...?” Sam got up and walked over to the window, and Joker turned his seat around. A Cerberus crewman in a pressure suit bumped up against the cockpit windows. The impact dislodged his helmet, and the three got a good look at his face. 

“Holy shit, what the hell happened to him?” Joker asked. The Cerberus pilot’s eyes had been burned out of their sockets, and his greyed and rapidly freezing skin was burned in a pattern of veins and circuitry. “He looks like a burned-out husk.” 

Sam and Dean looked at each other. “Cas.”

 

Cortez coasted into Grissom’s landing bay. “Cerberus shuttles here,” he said. “So they must have gotten some troops on board.” 

“Yeah,” Shepard commented. He unhooked his shotgun and prepped it for incendiary ammo. “Be ready,” he said. “Let’s move.” The shuttle doors opened, and the squad hopped out. Shepard took a look at the windows of the shuttle bay and whistled. “Wow. Whatever happened here, it apparently blew out all the windows. And left bodies.” He crept forward and around the corner to see a Cerberus trooper slumped against a cracked glass divider. Shepard nudged the body, and the helmet’s faceplate popped open when the trooper fell over. “Holy shit,” he whispered, turning the dead trooper face-up. “Look at him.” His eyes were burned out. 

“Over here,” EDI said. “This must be their commander.” His eyes were burned out and the outlines of subcutaneous implants were burned into his skin. EDI scanned the body carefully. “It is as if the implants in his body were the instrument of his destruction.” She looked at Shepard. “I can find no trace of them, though they were clearly there as indicated by the burn patterns. That is...disturbing.” 

“By the Goddess,” Liara whispered, eyes wide with surprise. “Do you think...” 

Liara’s question was interrupted by a hail from the Normandy. “Shepard, it’s Sam.” 

Shepard activated his comms unit. “Go ahead.” 

“Dean and I are still with Joker up in the cockpit. We’ve got bodies floating around out here with their eyes burned out--that’s definitely the sign of an angel-smiting.” 

“We found more here in the Academy’s shuttle bay,” Shepard replied. “Should we be concerned for our own safety?” 

After a long pause, Dean replied. “Maybe.” Shepard sighed and shook his head. 

“Liara, EDI, be ready for anything. Let’s see if we can find a guardpost or security station.” He stepped over the dead Cerberus troops and went up the ramp. “And hopefully, we find out what happened here.” Shepard stepped out into the hallway. 

“Commander,” a voice said over the comms. “Kahlee Sanders here. I’m holed up in the security station. There were some Cerberus troops outside a couple of minutes before you got here, but something happened to them. I haven’t gone to investigate, just in case any more of them show up.” 

“We’re on the way,” Shepard responded. He and the squad went through another door and walked a short way down the hall to another door marked SECURITY. It was partway open, and several bodies lay scattered in front of the door. Shepard squatted and popped the faceplate on one of the helmets. “Looks like these guys got the same treatment as the troops in the shuttle bay.” He stood. “Sanders,” he called out, “It’s me.” 

The door slid open after a couple of seconds, and a petite blonde woman in an Alliance dress uniform popped up and levelled a shotgun at the group for a second before putting it away. “Commander,” she said, walking forward to shake Shepard’s hand. “Thanks for answering our distress call--Admiral Anderson always spoke highly of you.” 

Shepard nodded. “Good to meet you--how many students are here?” 

Sanders walked over to a console and sat down. “About twenty--the rest got sent home when word of the invasion came. The ones that are here are prototyping tech for the Alliance. Some of them are training as biotic artillery. Practice dummies are a poor substitute for live fire, but they want to help...it felt wrong to tell them no.” Shepard nodded in agreement, and Sanders turned back to the console. “I’m sure you’re wondering what happened to those Cerberus troops you saw in the shuttle bay.” 

“You could say that.” 

Sanders punched up a display. “This is from the security cameras. I couldn’t believe my eyes.” She punched a button, and Shepard watched three Cerberus shuttles land and disgorge troops. Most of the soldiers hustled into the station, while a handful of troopers stayed behind with what looked like some kind of non-combat officer to keep watch. After about a minute or two, a brilliant white light exploded like a miniature star in the middle of the shuttle bay. Shepard’s jaw dropped when he saw flashes of light coming out from the troopers’ helmets as they thrashed in agony before dropping over. The light in the shuttle bay coalesced into the form of a dark-haired human male in fatigues and a trenchcoat. The man was wreathed in an intense biotic aura that flowed out from him to resemble a pair of wings, and his eyes blazed with blue-black flames. 

Shepard grimaced when he saw the man in the coat clap his hand on the top of the Cerberus commander’s head. Light streamed from the operative’s eyes and burned through his skin, and he dropped to the deck with faint curls of smoke coming from his eyesockets. The man in the coat looked up at the camera and smiled faintly before vanishing. 

Liara gasped. “Goddess...how is that possible?” 

“Great.” Shepard looked down at Sanders. “Can you scrub this footage? Cerberus is going to send another ship around eventually, and I don’t want them seeing this.” Sanders nodded, and Shepard opened his comms to the Normandy. “Dean, Sam--I’ve got confirmation that Castiel was here. There are some other Cerberus troops on the station, so we’re going to check it out. If we find him, do you have any advice for trying to talk him down?” 

After a long pause, Dean finally answered. “No.” The response was punctuated by a sigh and a mutter of “Dammit…” 

“Okay, I’ll take my chances then. Shepard out.” 

“Shepard,” Liara said, “If that was Castiel, we have no way of knowing--” Her statement was cut off by a beep from the security console. 

“Miss Sanders,” a male voice said, “are you there?” 

Sanders activated her Omni-Tool. “Yes, but this channel isn’t secure--switch to the channel we used in Intro to Encryption.” Sanders’ Omni-Tool blinked, and she activated it. A screen popped up, and Sanders held her arm up to show Shepard and his squad an auburn-haired teenage boy with four other students. “Where are you, Reilly?” she asked. 

“We’re on our way to Security right now.” 

“Good,” Sanders replied. “How many people do you have with you?” 

“Seanne’s here,” Reilly replied. “Also Froeberg, Honecker, and Jameson. Cerberus was hot on our tail when some guy in a trenchcoat showed up and…” 

“We’ve seen it here too,” Sanders said. “You’ll...see when you get here.” 

“Miss Sanders,” a dark-haired boy cut in, “A bunch of the other biotic students are holed up in Orion Hall with one of the instructors.” 

“Dammit!” Sanders looked up at Shepard. “It’s down the hall, around the corner to your right--I’ll unlock the door for you.” 

Shepard nodded. “Got it. If we run into that group of kids we’ll give them cover so they can get here safely.” 

Sanders nodded, and Shepard led his squad out to the hallway. The doors into the main part of the station opened, and a small knot of five teenagers froze in front of them. Shepard quickly moved his gun to the side and took a step through the threshold. “I’m Commander Shepard of the Alliance Navy--which one of you is Reilly?” 

“Right here,” the group’s leader said. He was supporting a girl that bore close resemblance to him. The students behind him started murmuring excitedly among themselves. “That guy in the coat, he--” 

“He’s not from around here,” Shepard said. “Do you know where he went?” 

“No sir,” a petite girl with short mousy hair said. “He just told us to shut our eyes. When we opened them again the Cerberus guys that cornered us were all dead and he was gone.” 

Shepard nodded. “Okay--get to security. I’ll go get your classmates, and we’ll all get off this station together.” 

The students hurried past Shepard and his squad, and the door closed behind them.

 

“Everybody! Head up top to the control room--now!” A heavily tattooed ponytailed woman let fly with a biotic shockwave that sent a couple of Cerberus troopers flying back. Static danced over the metal studs on her black leather bolo jacket, arcing down to the aura around her hands. A group of students hustled up the stairs to a control room overlooking the hall. Two of them threw up barriers, and the rest started peppering the invaders with micro-singularities. A large shutter started to roll up, and a horde of troopers rushed in, led by a handful of centurions with two engineers in tow.  One student who had been caught at the bottom of the stairs froze and stared wide-eyed at the flood of Cerberus goons. The tattooed woman ran over to him and threw up a barrier. “Upstairs!” She snapped. “Go! Now--I’ve got your back!” The boy ran up the stairs as a far door opened and Shepard’s squad came running into the room. 

“Jack?” 

The tattooed woman blinked. “Shepard?!” Before either of them could do anything, there was a sound of flapping wings and the distinct smell of ozone reached their nostrils as Castiel appeared in the middle of the room, eyes blazing with blue-black flames, and a biotic aura spreading out like wings from his body. He charged forward and quickly grabbed one trooper after another with inhuman speed, clapping each on the top of their helmets and letting the bodies drop with tendrils of smoke seeping out from under the faceplates of their helmets. The last centurion tried to run, but Castiel grabbed him by the handle across the top of his backpack and pulled him back to tear his helmet off. He smote the centurion and dropped the smoking corpse on the floor, then looked over at Shepard and nodded. 

“Cas! Wait!” Shepard called out to him, but Castiel vanished without a word. “Dammit.” 

Before Shepard could do or say anything, Jack walked up and punched him hard in the face. “Dammit Shepard,” she snarled, “how many times did I tell you not to trust Cerberus?!” 

Shepard rubbed his jaw. “You’re not telling me anything I haven’t told myself, Jack.” 

“Well shit, I bet that’s a big comfort to all the people they’ve killed.” Jack snorted. 

“You look well Jack,” EDI said. 

“Oh hey there, EDI.” Jack stood back and crossed her arms. “Now you look like a sexbot, instead of a sextoy.” EDI smiled coyly and wiggled her eyebrows, eliciting a surprised blink from Jack. “When Kahlee told me she was sending out an SOS, Shepard, I didn’t think the King of the Boy Scouts would show up.” 

Shepard half-chuckled. “I was in the neighbourhood, thought I’d stop by. Didn’t expect to find you here.” 

“Yeah, the Alliance heard about how I’d helped you take out the Collectors--so they made me a teacher.” 

“The Alliance made the perfect choice. I can’t think of anyone who could care for these kids more, Jack.” Shepard smiled. 

Jack looked back up at her students. “Yeah, I guess.” She turned to face the students. “Grab juice and an energy bar,” she called out. “We move in five!” The sound of wings made everyone look to the centre of the hall. Castiel appeared with three more students, who ran up the steps to join the biotics. He looked at Shepard with a terrified expression on his suddenly pale face, and his aura was gone. 

“Shepard…” he squeaked. “Help…” He collapsed to the deck and started shaking. Shepard rushed over to him, sliding the last foot and a half on his knees while getting an electrolyte drink out of a pocket on his hardsuit and cracking the top. He got Castiel to sit up, and dripped a little bit of the drink into the angel’s mouth. 

“Who the hell is this guy, Shepard? Aside from the worst case of biotic burnout that I’ve ever seen, I mean.” Jack reached out to take his pulse, and a small arc of electricity jumped from Jack to Castiel, who gasped and opened his eyes. “What the…” 

Castiel swallowed the drink in his mouth, and let out a sigh and a weak half-smile. Shepard gave him more of the drink. “He’s not from around here,” the Commander said, “It’s a long story.” He looked at Castiel. “Hold on, Cas--we’re going to get you back to the Normandy ASAP.” 

“Cerberus…” Castiel murmured. “All gone.” He sighed and slumped against Shepard as his eyes closed again. Shepard picked him up and slung him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry before slowly standing. 

“Liara, you’ll have to take half the students in one of the Cerberus shuttles.” Liara nodded, and Shepard looked over at Jack. “Let’s get you all out of here before Cerberus decides to come see what happened to their cruiser.”

 

Castiel heard flashes of conversation, in the dark. 

“Remember what we talked about in the mess? That’s what’s happening here.” 

“Impressive destruction of cruiser. Expect Cerberus will be looking for him now. Advise caution.” 

“Cas, hang in there buddy.  Please Cas, I need you.” 

He opened his eyes, and he was seated at Jimmy’s kitchen table. The lights in the Novak house were flickering, and everything seemed to be covered in duct tape. Jimmy was leaning against the counter calmly sipping from a glass of orange juice, a large roll of duct tape sitting on the counter next to him. Every time the lights dipped, Jimmy was outlined in blue. When the lights came up, he was blue-black. Castiel blinked and rubbed his eyes. 

“Juice?” Jimmy offered the glass to Castiel. When he shook his head, Jimmy shrugged and took another drink. With each sip, the lights flickered a little less and were a little brighter when they came up again. Cas got up from the table and walked toward Jimmy. The angel reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, and the lights came up and stayed up. “Looks like our electrolytes are back to normal,” Jimmy mused. “That’s certainly a good thing.” 

“You’re...” 

“Dark energy?” Jimmy shrugged. “Actually, I‘m functioning more like a containment field. This--” he waved his hand around to indicate the duct-taped house. “--is us. Me. Our body. All this--” He held up the roll of tape. “--is to keep it from getting torn apart.” Jimmy finished his juice and set the empty glass down on the counter, then picked up the roll of duct tape again and juggled it in his hands. “Mostly because reconstruction is a serious pain in the ass. But then, you know that.” 

“Where are we?” The house shook, and Castiel grabbed the counter. A fistful of duct tape came loose in his hand--the counter underneath was brilliant white with faint streaks of blue. He removed more tape from the counter, and Jimmy’s features became a little more distinct. 

“Not sure, to be honest. But I feel like we’re finally getting a handle on things.” Jimmy reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a large pomegranate, which he cracked open on the counter. The arils inside the fruit were shining beads of brilliant white light. Jimmy scooped several out and ate them. “It’s here if you want some,” he said, setting the fruit on the counter. “I think you might need it.” 

Castiel heard a steady beep, and opened his eyes to find himself in a hospital bed with an IV in his left arm. Sam, Dean, and Shepard were standing next to his bed, talking to a salarian doctor. “Dean...” Cas croaked. 

Dean turned, smiling when he saw his friend was awake. “Hey, Cas.” He pulled up a chair and sat down next to him, then reached over to take his free hand in both of his. “You had me worried, buddy. How you feeling?” 

The angel shrugged. “Hungry. Thirsty.” He yawned. “And a little tired.” The doctor left, and Shepard and Sam joined Dean around the bed. “Where am I?” 

“You’re on the Citadel,” Shepard explained. “We came here straight from Grissom Academy. Good thing we did, too, because you were pretty close to dying from the galaxy’s worst case of biotic burnout.” 

Castiel cleared his throat. “I overheard bits and pieces of conversation,” he rasped, “I take it I’m a wanted man now.” 

Shepard nodded. “Cerberus is going to want to know who trashed their cruiser and killed their troops. If we’re lucky, they waste time trying to track you down and spend less time trying to sabotage the war effort.” 

“And if we’re not lucky?” Sam asked. He handed Castiel a glass of a clear electrolyte drink, and the angel chugged it. 

“Then things are going to get a lot more complicated.” Shepard shrugged. “But right now, I’m not going to borrow trouble. Bottom line is that you saved a lot of people Cas, both on Elysium and at Grissom Academy--and I know that if they were here, they’d all thank you.” 

Castiel blushed a bit. “Thank you, that...that means a lot to me.” Without warning, a blue biotic aura popped up around him, vanishing a second later. Dean reflexively yanked his hands back for a moment. “Sorry,” Castiel said. “It appears that whatever’s happening to me, it’s a little...unstable.” 

“You may want to keep the biotics offline if you can,” Shepard said. “At least until after you’ve been had something more substantial than a couple of electrolyte IVs.” He scratched his head. “I need to go check on Kaidan before we head out to Tuchanka.” He turned to walk out of the room when Dean stood and put a hand on his arm. 

“Wait, Shepard--about that.” Dean looked to Castiel and then back to Shepard. “Sammy and I would like to stay here with Cas, if that’s OK with you.”  He leaned in and quietly added, “I worry about him. I don’t think you want somebody going with you into a hot zone like that when their head’s not in the game.” Shepard pondered for a moment. 

“Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry you won’t be coming with when we cure the genophage, but I understand. I’ll be back for the three of you--take care of each other while I’m gone.” Shepard gave Dean a friendly squeeze-pat on the shoulder and nodded, then walked out the door. 

“So, Cas.” Sam pulled up a chair next to Dean. “What the hell happened? We saw that Cerberus ship--what was left of it anyway.” 

“Yeah,” Dean added, “and we saw what you did to the crew.” He shuddered involuntarily. “That was pretty extreme.” 

Castiel pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. “I...I reached out to one of the crew, thinking I could reason with him--and what I heard wasn’t human. It was something very old and malevolent.” The angel grimaced and looked away for a moment. “It was a very unpleasant reminder of when I was fighting the Leviathan for control of this vessel,” he sighed. “They were lost, Dean. What was there was no longer human. He was a puppet.” 

“And Grissom Academy?” Sam asked. 

“I was angry.” Castiel sounded frustrated when he said it. “That’s the best way to explain it. My Father created everyone with the gifts of self-determination and creativity.” He balled up his fists, and a blue biotic shimmer washed over him briefly. “The Reapers pervert those gifts and turn people into mindless slaves that are incapable of rebelling. They’re worse than the Leviathans. Worse than demons or any other monster.” 

“Damn.” Dean’s eyes widened briefly, and an uncomfortable silence hung over the room for a minute before Dean spoke again. “OK, so what about you? If they can “reprogram” humans and others, doesn’t that mean they can mess with you and your programming?” 

“Fortunately,” Castiel replied, “I seem to be somewhat resistant. But I have no desire to test how long I can remain so.” 

The door opened, and Sam and Dean turned to see a handsome green-skinned Drell standing there wearing a black coat and bodysuit. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, his voice slightly gravelly. He stepped into the room and put a hand out. “Thane Krios. You and I have a mutual friend in Stannis Shepard.” 

Sam stood and shook Thane’s hand. “Sam Winchester. This is my brother Dean, and the guy in the bed is Castiel.” 

Dean looked at Thane with suspicion for a moment, then shook his hand before turning his chair to face him. “Sorry--I’m just getting a little weirded out by the fact that everyone’s so nice here.” 

“Clearly,” Thane quipped with a slight smirk, “You haven’t been to some of the seedier parts of the Wards, or to Omega. Not a lot of “nice” to be had there.” He coughed a couple of times. “Shepard told me about the three of you when he was here last--I encouraged him to give you a chance to prove yourselves. You’ve earned his trust, which is no small feat--especially for three individuals who are “not from around here”.” He smiled slightly, and coughed again, harder this time, following the coughs with a couple of gasps. 

“You okay?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. He rose from his chair and reached out to steady Thane, who nodded and put up a hand. 

“My apologies,” the Drell said. “I have Kepral’s Syndrome--my lung function is decreased, and my body is losing its ability to take in oxygen. It’s not communicable, but it is terminal.” 

“Damn, I’m sorry to hear that,” Sam said. “So...I suppose we should thank you for us not being thrown in prison somewhere.” 

“Yes, I helped Shepard defeat the Collectors, along with a handful of others. I reminded him of the value of embracing the unorthodox.” 

“Jack.” Sam, Dean, and Thane looked back to Castiel. “I was there, when she told Shepard he should never have trusted Cerberus,” the angel explained. “I got the impression that she had some experience with them.” He paused for a long moment. “She did, didn’t she?” 

Thane nodded. “Yes. I went with her to destroy the Cerberus facility where she was imprisoned and experimented on as a child.” His eyes got a far-off look. “Bloody spatters on the walls, rubble from years of neglect. A steel-frame bed holding scuff marks from restraints used to hold a struggling child.” Thane blinked. “Sorry--we Drell are blessed and cursed with perfect memories. For all the beauty I’ve been blessed to see, I can also recall horrors that none should have to endure.” Thane’s Omni-Tool pinged, and he pulled up a text message: 

_“VIP” coming to see the Winchesters. May want to make yourself scarce. -- S._

“I would like to stay and talk with you more, but I’m here under an assumed name, and there are people that...let’s just say they don’t need to know that I’m here.” Thane shook their hands. “It would be good to talk with you again, when we have more time.” He opened the door to Castiel’s hospital room, looked out into the hallway, and ducked out and around a corner, letting the door slide shut behind him. 

Several seconds later, the doors opened again. A slightly balding and well-manicured human in a cream-coloured business suit strolled into the room, with Shepard in tow. “Commander,” he said, “Don’t you think it wise to tell the Council when you have irregulars on the Normandy running covert operations for you?” 

From behind him, Shepard pursed his lips for a moment. “Councilor,” he snapped, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes, “given what happened on Sur’kesh, don’t you think it wise to, oh I dunno, not show all our cards to the Reapers or to Cerberus?” 

“Thank you Commander,” the man replied pointedly, “that will be all.” He looked back over his shoulder. “You are dismissed.” He turned back to the Winchesters, and Shepard curled his upper lip in a snarl for a moment before shaking his head, turning on his heel, and walking out of the room. When the doors closed behind him, an uncomfortable silence settled over the room for several seconds. The stranger regarded the newcomers for a moment, then extended his hand. “Welcome to the Citadel, gentlemen. I am Donnel Udina, humanity’s voice on the Citadel Council.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes a bit. He sat back and crossed his arms. “Really. So what brings you here, ‘Councilor’?” 

Sam crossed his arms as well. “Yeah, Shepard sure doesn’t seem to think much of you.” 

Udina smirked. “Please. Do you really think that Shepard has Earth’s best interests at heart?” Sam quirked an eyebrow. “Gentlemen, we’ve all seen the destruction that the Reapers have caused. Shepard claims to be fighting for Earth, but look at where he’s gone. Palaven? Tuchanka? Sur’kesh? I suppose next he’ll try to get those damned Quarians involved.” Udina clasped his hands behind his back and paced in front of Dean. “Earth is the Reapers’ main target--Shepard should be focusing on that. Instead, he’s--” 

“Fighting for everyone,” Sam shot back. “We were on Earth when the Reapers hit--we saw what they were doing, and there’s no way we can take them on alone.” 

“Don’t be foolish,” Udina snorted, “The other races are only concerned with their own agendas--humanity doesn’t matter to them, never has. And Shepard? He’s a loose cannon. He’d only been to Earth once, up until six months ago. Do you honestly believe that’s the kind of person we need representing humanity’s interests?” 

Dean stood up, jaw set and green eyes blazing with ire. “Let me tell you something, you smarmy bag of dicks,” he snarled. “The three of us have fought a shitload of monsters before, been through trials and tribulations that you can’t even imagine. The Reapers are worse than all of them put together, and Humanity’s going to need all the help it can get. So what if Shepard’s a loose cannon--big fat hairy deal! Things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get any better, so maybe what we need right now is somebody who’s able to make things up as he goes along and get people to work together.” 

Udina stood his ground. “There _are_ people who care for Earth--for humanity--far more than Shepard or any of his alien friends,” he said smoothly, “They’re ready to help, they have the resources to end the Reaper threat, and I’m sure that they’d welcome you quite warmly. If you like, I’d be happy to get you in contact with--” 

“Who--Cerberus?” Castiel spat out the name. “I’ve seen their works, Councilor,” he growled. “I would not call them “friends” of humanity--I think that I can safely speak for the three of us when I say...bite me.” 

Udina’s eyes widened slightly at Castiel’s mention of Cerberus. He looked down at the floor for a moment, shoulders drooping in a faked show of resignation as he composed himself. “Well,” he said, straightening up and adjusting the hem of his suit coat, “I can see that you’re committed to wasting your talents helping other races rather than helping your own. Mark my words, gentlemen, this will not end well.” He turned and walked out of the hospital room, pausing halfway down the hall to pull up a screen on his Omni-Tool. “They’ll be in Room 403 at Huerta Memorial when you get here--perhaps your methods of persuasion will be more effective.” he said _sotto voce_ to the silhouette on the screen. Udina closed the screen, and continued walking down the hall. He passed a room and paused when he saw Shepard talking to Kaidan. The Councilor’s eyes narrowed, and he kept walking.


	12. Furious Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Udina makes his move, Thane goes to the sea, Kaidan returns to the Normandy. And Team Free Will is introduced to the Council in rather dramatic fashion.

“So it’s been a week,” Dean grumbled. “I’m starting to wish we’d gone to Tuchanka with Shepard, because I think I have walked, flown, or driven all over every inch of this damn station when not swapping stories with Thane or keeping an eye on Cas.” He sighed and looked down at his bowl of ramen, then dug in with his fork and slurped up a large mouthful of noodles.

“I’ve got a really bad feeling about that Udina guy,” Sam said in between slurps of noodles and broth. “He really is a lot like Crowley.”

Dean nodded as he swallowed his bite of food and took a swig of his beer. “Only this guy’s not a now-mortal crossroads demon who wants to take over the world. He’s just a smarmy dick who hangs out with a seriously bad crowd.” He took a look at the label on his bottle. “'Scuse me,” he called to the turian cook, “Where did you say this beer was from?”

“Thessia,” the cook replied. “They make two kinds--the one for biotics has eezo in it. The asari claim it gives the beer an extra kick.”

“Thanks. This is pretty good beer,” he commented. “Better than that Thighslapper Ale we had a couple years ago--mostly because it’s probably not marketed to douchebags. Maybe we should get Cas one of the biotic ones when he gets out of the hospital,” he said to Sam. “You think?” Dean drained his beer and set the empty bottle down next to his bowl before hailing the cook over and handing him a credit chit. The cook ran the chit and handed it back to him, and Dean nodded and smiled. “Thanks again.” He and Sam got up from the bar and walked back toward the rapid transit station. A car lit up and its doors opened, and the brothers climbed in.

The cab rose from the platform, and Dean took a deep breath and pinched the web between his left thumb and index finger for a moment before strapping in. “You know Dean,” Sam remarked, “I can’t figure out why riding in a skycar freaks you out, but you’re okay with being in a shuttle or on the Normandy. Is it because those don’t feel like flying?” Dean nodded, and Sam patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s a little less freaky now that I know that the cars fly here,” Dean replied. “But I still get nervous, not feeling solid ground beneath my feet. Wheels. Whatever.” He watched cars suddenly start peeling off from the traffic lanes and land in various parts of the Presidium. The occupants of the cars leapt out and started running for cover, and a gunship with yellow and white markings flew past, shooting down a couple of still-aloft cars that got in its way. “What the hell? Uhh, Sammy, can you make this thing go any faster?”

“Already working on that.” Sam gunned the engine, and the cab shot forward right as a couple of bullets from another gunship pinged off of the fuselage. “Try to call Cas.”

Dean's Omni-Tool began blinking before he could do anything. He tapped the tool, and a screen popped up showing Castiel, who had swapped his hospital gown for his fatigues and trenchcoat. “Dean, what’s your location?”

“Sammy and I are in a skycar, coming back from Zakera Ward. Something’s going down, we should meet up and figure out what’s happening.” 

"Cerberus is attacking the Citadel--I'm with Thane, we just evaded two squads of Cerberus commandos."

"We sh--" The cab jerked to the right, and Dean grabbed the dashboard. “Dammit Sam, watch out!”

“Sorry Dean, trying not to get in a wreck.” Sam and Dean looked over to see a yellow-and-black shuttle pull up alongside them. Its doors opened, and several Cerberus soldiers levelled assault rifles at them. “Crap--hang on!” Sam jerked the manual steering controls hard, making the car dip down just before the soldiers opened up with a fusillade. “We gotta get out of the air,” he called out. “Cas, meet us on the Presidium!” Sam set the skycar down and opened the doors as Dean killed the connection with Castiel, and the brothers dove out of the car with pistols out. The shuttle descended to let the soldiers jump out just as the Winchesters ducked behind a metal sculpture. Rounds pinged off the sculpture. Dean shoved a thermal clip into his Carnifex and snapped off a couple of shots before rolling behind a large planter.

Sam popped out from around the sculpture and let off a chained overload blast from his Omni-Tool that staggered the soldiers. Dean fired several more shots that dropped three of them, then dove behind a counter before the rest could return fire. A centurion chucked a smoke grenade, forcing Sam to join his brother behind the counter. “I don’t even believe this crap. You think they’re coming after Cas?”

Dean checked his thermal clip, then popped up to fire off one more shot when the smoke started to clear. “I don’t know, but I’ll be damned if they take him without a fight,” he snarled as he shoved a fresh clip into his pistol. Sam zapped the centurion with a jolt from his Omni-Tool that staggered him long enough for Dean to bull-rush the soldier and send him flying over the side of the terrace. “Let’s move before more show up!” The brothers hustled out from behind the storefront counter and around a corner. A door opened in a side wall, and the brothers ducked into an open clothing store.

An asari clerk was slumped over the counter, a salarian customer on the floor. “Two to the chest,” Dean said, checking over the clerk.

Sam looked down at the Salarian and grimaced. “This poor bastard’s had half his face blown off.” Another customer, a human, had been almost cut in half by gunfire behind a rack. Sam sighed and shook his head. “You think Cerberus is just going after a bodycount?”

“I dunno Sammy,” Dean replied, “But we need to find something to fight those bastards with, because two pistols and three clips are not going to do it.” The two of them ducked out the back of the store and ran through a maintenance tunnel to another door. Dean tried the door, softly cursing when he saw that it was locked.

“Here,” Sam said. “I’ve got it.” He quickly hacked the lock and opened the door, and the two of them hustled inside, shutting and relocking the door behind them. Sam and Dean activated the micro-LED flashlights on their pistols and looked around. Dean found the light switch on the opposite wall and activated it, and the two of them whistled at the sight of racks of weapons and boxes of ammunition A sign on the door next to the switch read AEGOHR MUNITIONS.

“Merry Christmas to us,” Dean half-whispered. “Here,” he said, reaching for a hefty-looking shotgun with four barrels stacked on top of each other. “Take this.” Dean tossed the shotgun to Sam and grabbed another of the same kind. He grabbed several clips and shoved them into pockets on his trousers, then picked up more clips and started loading them into the shotgun. “We’re going to go hunting for some Cerberus douchebags,” he snarled, sliding another box of clips across the floor toward Sam.

“Let’s do this.” Sam loaded clips into his shotgun and stashed a few more in his pockets, then cocked the shotgun. They walked back toward the front door of the storeroom and froze when they heard movement on the other side. The brothers dodged to the side of the door and waited. The door opened, and Dean whipped around and shoved his shotgun in the face of a very surprised Castiel, who responded with a biotic blast that threw both brothers backward into the wall.

“Oh crap!”

Castiel rushed forward into the storeroom to check on Dean, followed quickly by Thane, who pulled the door shut behind him after quickly checking to make sure they weren’t followed. “Are you hurt?” the drell asked. Dean shook his head and held up a hand, still trying to catch his breath.

“Holy crap, Cas--remind me to take cover the next time you decide to let loose like that.” Dean shook his head and steadied himself before going over by the door to check on Sam, who waved him off. “Were you followed?”

“No,” Thane said. “Castiel and I evaded their commandos with the help of Major Alenko.”

“Is he with you?” Dean asked.

“We split up shortly after escaping the hospital--He said he had to protect the Council.”

Dean grimaced. “Cas, did you warn him about Udina being Crowley Junior?” Castiel’s face turned bright red in response to Dean’s question. “Aw man...okay, then we’ll just have to try to get to the Council before Cerberus does. Grab a weapon and some clips, we’re rolling out.”

“Wait,” Thane said. “Some subtlety is called for--Cerberus will be keeping tabs on all the elevators and are most likely monitoring all video feeds, so we need to exercise caution.” He reached for a pistol and some clips. Dean grabbed several more clips and handed them to Castiel, who stashed them in one of the pockets of his trenchcoat. "We need to get to C-Sec headquarters."

“Why do we need to go there?” Sam asked.

“Gunship patrols and roving squads suggest that Cerberus has control of HQ--which means that they have control of the station and the docks. We have to help C-Sec retake it so they can coordinate their response.” Thane slotted a clip into the pistol and stashed two more in his suit, and coughed a couple of times. “Running will be difficult, but I will do my best to keep up.”

“We’ll keep up with you,” Dean said. “We’re not leaving anyone behind. You need a moment to catch your breath, you let us know.”

Thane nodded. He opened his mouth to say something, then put up a hand and tilted his head to one side. He listened for a moment, then pointed toward the back door. Sam unlocked the door and quickly popped his head out, looking both ways before ducking back inside and nodding. Dean took point, Thane following him. The drell slipped past Dean after a few feet and quickly made his way forward to an L-shaped intersection where he could peek around the corner. He waved the rest of the group forward and popped his head around a corner to get a quick look. “C-Sec officers are moving to engage a Cerberus squad.”

Dean nodded and set his jaw. “Let’s go provide some backup.” He toggled a switch on his shotgun to generate explosive rounds, and slipped around the corner to come face to face with a lone Cerberus centurion. Dean stroked the trigger on his shotgun, and four heavy spikes flew out and embedded themselves deeply in the centurion’s armour. Dean dove over the counter of another open-air storefront as the spikes detonated, blowing the front off of the soldier’s armour and cracking his helmet open. Castiel came around the corner and smote the centurion before going to join Dean in cover, followed by Sam. Dean popped his head up. “You coming, Thane?”

The Drell was gone. “Dammit,” Dean snarled, ducking back down behind the counter. “OK, looks like we’re on our--” he was interrupted by a soft ping from his Omni-Tool. He tapped it, and a message popped up:

_When you come out of that store and head to your right, you will be headed toward C-Sec HQ. I will meet you there. Good luck._

“Man...” Dean sighed. “OK, Thane’s apparently decided to lone-wolf it--but he gave us a pointer to where we need to go. Everyone ready?” Sam and Castiel nodded. “Good--let’s roll.” He popped his head around one side of the storefront, and saw a Cerberus combat engineer getting ready to set up an automated turret. Dean fired off another salvo of spikes from his shotgun and hit the turret’s housing, causing it to shred the engineer with a hail of deadly shrapnel when it exploded.

“Dean,” Cas said, “I should find something to eat.”

“This isn’t the time, Cas!” Dean blasted two troopers with one shot, and slotted in a new clip. “Can it wait?”

Castiel vaulted a gap between two terraces to smite another trooper. “Not really, Dean.” He teleported back toward the Winchesters, his expression pale. “I’ve had nothing but IVs and the occasional jello cup for the last two days. That won’t be enough to maintain my energy level.”

“Here, catch!” Sam tossed him something wrapped in foil and pointed back over his left shoulder. “There’s a whole assload of them in that store right there.” Castiel opened the package to find what looked like a slightly moist granola bar. He hungrily devoured the bar, and strolled past Sam into the store. Dean and Sam heard the sound of another foiled wrapper tearing and boxes falling from shelves, and walked in to find the angel shoving fistfuls of the meal bars into the pockets of his coat along with about a dozen small energy-drink bottles. “Good thing we remembered to bring it from the Normandy for him,” Sam jibed. Castiel turned when he heard Sam, and stood there with a meal bar sticking out of his mouth, looking rather like a child who had been caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Several bars fell out of his overstuffed pockets before he bit off a chunk of the bar and ate it.

“What?” he said with his mouth full of meal bar. “I said I’m hungry...” Dean and Sam shook their heads.

“Oh for...” Dean snarked, “You ready to go, Cas? Need a potty break or anything before we move out?”

“Mmmph.” The angel finished chewing and swallowed when Dean fixed him with an annoyed look. “Sorry--I, uh, should be okay now.” He cracked open an energy drink and drained in three large gulps. A couple of drops ran down his chin, and he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, then let out a poorly-stifled belch. “OK, let’s go.”

"Pardon you?" Dean cracked. "Even I've got better manners tha--"

“Cas, you may want to be careful.” Sam looked concerned. “Even with those powerbars and energy shots, you did just spend the last two days in the hospital with IVs in your arms.”

“I’ll be fine, Sam.” Castiel waved Sam off and stepped out onto the terrace. “I’m going to scout ahead,” he said, vanishing in a flash of blue with the sound of rustling wings.

“Dean, Sam, you guys there?” Joker’s voice crackled over their comms.

“Yeah Joker,” Sam replied. “Where are you?” A Cerberus shuttle went flying past, and he and Dean ducked behind the store’s counter.

“Shepard’s inbound on C-Sec HQ in a shuttle with James and Liara,” Joker said. “Thane got a hold of us on an emergency channel and told us what was happening when we didn’t get an answer from Alliance Control. Want me to have Cortez come get you?”

“Negative,” Dean chimed in. “We’re headed toward C-Sec now, we can meet Shepard there.”

“Roger that--you guys be careful, okay?”

“You too.” Dean and Sam nodded to each other, and barrelled out onto the mall terrace, standing back-to-back with shotguns levelled in front of them.

“Clear twelve o’clock.”

“Clear six o’clock.” Sam turned, and the brothers ran forward to vault the gap to the next terrace. A small trail of Cerberus bodies lay scattered in a side hallway. Troopers mostly, but two distinctly female bodies--one in a grey suit of armour and another in black--lay crumpled on the floor next to each other. “Looks like we’ve got some new players,” he said. Almost on cue, a bright red dot appeared on Sam's chest. Dean grabbed his brother and yanked him to the side just before a bullet went flying through the space where he had been standing. “Thanks,” Sam said.

“It’s my job,” Dean replied. He ducked into a doorway and peeked out to train his shotgun down the hallway. A female trooper in a black catsuit popped around the corner, sniper rifle in hand, and Dean let fly with a salvo of spikes before ducking back into cover and reloading. Sam followed up the shot with an overload blast from his Omni-Tool, staggering the sniper and buying Dean enough time to run up and blast her with a fresh barrage from his shotgun. He poked his head around the corner for a moment. “OK, clear.”

The brothers were walking down the hallway when they heard shrieks punctuated by a loud implosion. They came out of the hallway and back onto the terrace to see Castiel smiting the last of a Cerberus squad that had cornered a small group of civilians, who were cowering under a biotic barrier. Three C-Sec officers, a turian and two asari, ran around the corner and trained their assault rifles on Castiel, who turned to look at them. “I’m on your side,” he said calmly. “Help those people there.” The barrier vanished, and the asari officers went to check on the civilians.

“It’s okay,” Dean called to the turian officer, who still had his rifle trained on Castiel. “He’s with us--we’re helping you guys out.” He approached the officer and held his shotgun to the side. “Can you tell us which way to C-Sec HQ?”

Castiel ripped open the wrapper of a meal bar and gobbled it down, then looked around with the wrapper in his hand until he found a bin marked with a turian throwing something inside. He threw the wrapper into the bin, then got out an energy drink from one of his coat’s inside pockets and shotgunned it before throwing the bottle into the bin. “How many of those have you had?” Sam asked.

“Several....”

“Define several?”

“...dozen.” Castiel looked a little sheepish. “I’ve been consuming these bars and drinks at a prodigious rate--I have a feeling that something a good deal more substantial may be needed, when this is all over.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Substantial...how?”

“A large dinner should work. I’m, err, still trying to get a handle on things. Myself. Excuse me." A Cerberus gunship cruised past, and Castiel vanished with the sound of rustling wings. Two seconds later, the gunship imploded in a brilliant blue-white ball of flame. Castiel reappeared on the terrace, eyes burning with blue flames and shimmering biotic aura forming a pair of wings.

Sam blinked a couple of times. “Cas,” he slowly asked, “what did you just do?” Dean looked over at the two of them, and Castiel looked down at his feet as Dean finished talking to the C-Sec officers and walked over. Sam’s jaw dropped slightly and he got a look of horror on his face. “My god, Cas, you didn’t....eat them?”

“What?! No!” Castiel looked up in shock. “No, absolutely not. I smote the Cerberus soldiers in the gunship. The drive core though...”

Dean’s eyes grew wide with disbelief. “You ate a drive core?”

“Sort of. I absorbed the eezo in the drive core.” His aura vanished, and Castiel dug in an inside pocket for another energy drink. “I’ll have to explain later.” He cracked open the drink and drained it in two gulps before throwing the empty bottle into the rubbish bin. “We really should head to C-Sec HQ.”

Dean looked back at the civilians, who were staring at the trio with fear in their eyes. “Get them to a safe place," he said to the C-Sec officers. "We’ll do our best to clear out as many of these Cerberus mooks as we can.” He turned and went back to Castiel and Sam. “OK, let’s go--and thanks to your little stunt, Cas, we can look forward to being on the nightly news for the rest of the war.”

Static crackled in their ears for a second. “Dean, Sam? It’s Shepard--you okay? Is Cas with you?”

Dean toggled his comms unit. “Yeah, we’re headed toward C-Sec HQ. Udina’s behind this whole thing.”

“I know,” Shepard grumbled. “The salarian Councilor uncovered some shady dealings by Udina and called me to help get to the bottom of it.”

“Where are you?” Dean asked as he ducked into an open anteroom, Sam and Castiel tailing him.

“On top of an elevator with Liara and James, trying to get to the top of Shalmar Plaza. Udina’s leading the Council--and Kaidan--there, and Cerberus assassins are in pursuit.” Shepard paused. “Thane’s been critically injured.”

“And the Councilor?”

“He’s safe,” Shepard replied. “Thane got the drop on the assassin and was able to foil his attempt on Councilor Valern’s life, so now that Cerberus bastard’s going after the rest of the Council. Get to C-Sec HQ, Bailey will need--”

“Negative,” Castiel said into his own comms unit. “I have another idea.” He put his hands on Sam and Dean’s shoulders. “Brace yourselves.” The three of them vanished with the sound of rustling wings and a crackle of static.

 

“Here’s their elevator!” James called out. “Jump!” The three of them jumped on the elevator carrying the remaining members of the Council, and almost immediately had to dodge bullets that pierced the elevator’s roof from inside. The elevator came to a stop, and Shepard levered off one of the roof panels with James’ assistance.

“Let’s move, people,” Shepard barked. “We have to get to the Council before Cerberus does!” He dropped down into the elevator and ran out into the corridor, with Liara and James right behind him, pursuing Kaidan’s retreating form.

The Councilors rushed out onto the terrace to find their shuttle a smoking ruin. Before they could do anything, Castiel and the Winchesters appeared in a flash of blue-white light. Castiel’s eyes were blazing with blue flames, and his winged aura shimmered out from him. Dean grinned ferally and called out, “Udina! You miss us?” Udina paled when he saw them and pulled up, eyes wide and hands up.

“Everybody back to the elevator--I’ll cover you!” Kaidan ran toward Councilor Udina, barrier up and pistol out, when the asari councilor pointed behind him.

“We’re trapped!”

Kaidan turned to see Shepard, James, and Liara come through the door and seal it behind them. Shepard had his pistol trained on Udina, and Kaidan trained his pistol on Shepard. “Shepard? What’s going on?”

Shepard lowered his gun and signalled for James and Liara to do the same. “I can explain, Kaidan.”

“Come on Shepard,” Kaidan said evenly. “Gun drawn on a Councilor? Kinda looks bad.”

“You’ve all been fooled,” Shepard announced. “Councilor Udina’s behind this. Councilor Valern uncovered proof that Udina was passing money to Cerberus.”

“Please,” Udina whipped around and spat the words out. “You have no proof, you never do!”

 _“Do you really think that Shepard has Earth’s best interests at heart?”_ The Councilors heard Udina’s voice, then turned and saw that Sam had activated his Omni-Tool to play a recording. _“Gentlemen, we’ve all seen the destruction that the Reapers have caused. Shepard claims to be fighting for Earth, but look at where he’s gone. Palaven? Tuchanka? Sur’kesh? I suppose next he’ll try to get those damned Quarians involved.”_ Udina’s recorded voice echoed over the terrace. _“Earth is the Reapers’ main target--Shepard should be focusing on that. Instead, he’s--”_

 _“Fighting for everyone,”_ Sam’s voice cut in. _“We were on Earth when the Reapers hit--we saw what they were doing, and there’s no way we can take them on alone.”_

_“Don’t be foolish. The other races are only concerned with their own agendas--humanity doesn’t matter to them, never has. And Shepard? He’s a loose cannon. He’d only been to Earth once, up until six months ago. Do you honestly believe that’s the kind of person we need representing humanity’s interests?”_

Dean’s snarling voice piped up on the recording. _“Let me tell you something, you smarmy bag of dicks. The three of us have fought a shitload of monsters before, been through trials and tribulations that you can’t even imagine. The Reapers are worse than all of them put together, and Humanity’s going to need all the help it can get. So what if Shepard’s a loose cannon--big fat hairy deal! Things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get any better, so maybe what we need right now is somebody who’s able to make things up as he goes along and get everyone to work together.”_

 _“There are people who care for Earth--for humanity--far more than Shepard or any of his alien friends,”_ Udina’s voice continued, the word “alien” dripping with contempt. _“They’re ready to help, they have the resources to end the Reaper threat, and I’m sure that they’d welcome you quite warmly. If you like, I’d be happy to get you in contact with--”_

 _“Who--Cerberus?”_ Castiel's voice cut through the air like a flashing sword. _“I’ve seen their works,”_ his voice growled on the recording. _“I would not call them “friends” of humanity--I think that I can safely speak for the three of us when I say...bite me.”_

After a long pause, Udina’s voice was heard again. _“Well, I can see that you’re committed to wasting your talents helping other races rather than helping your own. Mark my words, gentlemen, this will not end well for you.”_

“So, ‘Councilor’,” Dean snidely asked when the recording finished, “I'm betting that you thought your Cerberus buddies would gank the three of us at the hospital and then come save your sorry ass. I'm so sorry to disappoint you.”

"And for the record,” Castiel snarled defiantly, “I am an angel of the Lord, created to be a shepherd and steward of all His creations--human _and_ nonhuman.” To punctuate his point, he flared his barrier, making his “wings” flutter.

“Listen to me,” Shepard added. He pointed behind him to the sealed door. “There is a pack of Cerberus assassins hot on our tail right now--if they get through that door, you are all dead because I don’t think that Cas can smite them fast enough. You didn’t listen to me before, and the whole goddamn galaxy got caught flat-footed by the Reapers. But I am begging you to listen to me now.”

A tense silence settled over Shalmar Plaza for several seconds that seemed felt like an eternity.

“To hell with this!” Udina ran to the nearby console and started to enter a security override.

Kaidan looked at Shepard, gun still trained on him. “I’d better not regret this,” he said quietly, and lowered his gun.

“You won’t.” Shepard lowered his own pistol.

“Councilor Udina,” Kaidan said, turning toward Udina and pointing his pistol at him, “Step away from the console.” Councilor Tevos walked up to Udina and put a hand on his arm, fixing him with a stern look. Udina shoved the asari to the ground and pulled out a pistol, which he pointed at her. His face had anger written all over it.

Castiel took a step forward, but Shepard caught his attention and shook his head. Udina’s grip tightened on the pistol, and Kaidan fired one shot that hit the human Councilor square in the chest and dropped him. Castiel snapped his aura off and staggered. Sam and Dean grabbed their friend and helped him sit down on the deck. Dean handed him two bottles of energy drink, and Sam fished several meal bars out of Castiel’s coat for him. “That was pretty risky,” Dean whispered. “You gonna be okay?” Cas nodded and drained first one energy drink and then the other.

“I should be okay,” Castiel said, panting from exertion. “I’ll need to have something to eat and get medical attention when we get back to the Normandy, though.” Dean patted him on the shoulder and rubbed his back.

“The door!” Sparatus, the turian Councilor, pointed back to the door, which was being cut opened by somebody on the other side. Shepard and Kaidan immediately raised their guns and pointed them at the door, and Sam and Dean sprang up and ran to take up positions next to them, shotguns at the ready. Castiel stood and summoned up a personal barrier, and took a few steps toward the door, which opened to reveal a group of armed C-Sec officers led by a strapping square-jawed senior officer with a greying blonde crew cut.

“Commander Bailey,” Shepard said. He lowered his gun and shook the man’s hand. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Something’s not right,” Councilor Tevos said, “Shepard said that there were Cerberus assassins coming after us.”

“There were,” Bailey said, “But they beat feet into the Keeper tunnels when they figured out we were coming. I’ll say it plain, Councilor--Shepard and his friends just saved the lot of you.”

Sparatus' mandibles clicked for a moment. “Then I owe you a personal debt, Commander, as well as one on behalf of Palaven.”

Shepard shook the Councilor’s outstretched hand. “You don’t owe me anything, Councilor. At times like these, we all have to stick together.” He looked back toward Castiel, who was surrounded by empty energy drink bottles and meal-bar wrappers. The angel’s lips were tinted orange from the drinks, and Sam and Dean had walked back to check on him. “I’ll have a report submitted to the Council about my irregulars within the week--I was hoping to keep them under wraps,” Shepard said with a half-sigh, “but I guess there’s no keeping them a secret now.”

“Alright everybody,” Bailey said. “Principals are evacuated. Let’s clear the plaza.” He leaned over to Shepard. “You may want to stop by Huerta Memorial--Thane’s been taken there for emergency surgery. From what I’ve been told he’s in pretty bad shape. And I’ll try to keep our good samaritans out of the news as best I can...” Bailey nodded toward the hunters at the far side of the plaza. “But no promises.” Shepard nodded, then walked over to Kaidan.

“Kaidan...?” Shepard gently laid a hand on Kaidan’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Kaidan said quietly. He turned and left the terrace. Sam and Dean picked up the mess of wrappers and bottles that Castiel had strewn around him, stowing them in the angel’s coat pockets before the three of them walked back through the door. Kaidan stared at the burning shuttlecraft for a long moment, then sighed and walked back through the door and into the corridor.

Shepard walked down the hallway at the hospital, glancing in each room as he went. His progress was slow because of the profusion of gurneys and wounded patients in the hall. He finally walked up to a nearby doctor. “Excuse me--a drell named Thane Krios was brought in here with a stab wound. He’s a friend of mine, I’d like to see him if I can.”

The doctor looked down at his datapad and punched up a list of patients. “I’m not seeing anyone by that name--” he looked up at Shepard for a second, “--but we do have a drell patient matching his description, who just came out of surgery.” The doctor paused for a moment. “His condition is pretty grave. He lost a lot of blood, and he’s in the advanced stages of Kepral’s Syndrome.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

The doctor shook his head. “I’m sorry. If you want to see him, I suggest being quick about it. He’s in that room over there with his son and three others,” he said, nodding toward a room just behind Shepard.

“Thank you.” Shepard nodded and turned to enter the room. A young drell with aqua skin was standing by the bed along with Sam, Dean, and Castiel. When Shepard walked in, the drell walked over and shook his hand.

“Hello Commander Shepard,” he said. “I don’t know if you remember me...”

“Kolyat,” Shepard replied. “It’s good to see you again--but I wish it were under happier circumstances.”

“I tried to see what I could do for him,” Castiel said quietly. “But...” Dean put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze.

Thane smiled a bit. “Commander,” he said, “I’m afraid I won’t be joining you.” He coughed a couple of times.

“You’ve done more than enough, Thane.” Shepard smiled sadly. Thane nodded and clasped his hands in front of him.

“Kalahira, mistress of inscrutable depths, grant me forgiveness. Kalahira, whose waves wear down stone and sand--” Thane started coughing, unable to finish the prayer.

“--Kalahira,” Kolyat continued, “wash the sins from this one and set him on the distant shore of the infinite spirit.”

“Kolyat...you speak as the priests do. Have you been studying with them?” Thane’s voice was a faint rasp now, his breathing laboured. Kolyat nodded and took out a book bound in ornately tooled leather as Thane smiled.

“Commander,” he said, “I brought a prayer book--will you join me?”

“I would be honoured,” Shepard replied. Kolyat opened the book and began to read.

“Kalahira, this one’s heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention. Guide this one to where the traveller never tires, the lover never leaves, the hungry never starve.”

Shepard finished the prayer as Dean, Sam, and Castiel all stood at the end of the bed with heads bowed. “Guide this one, Kalahira, and he will be a companion to you as he was to me.” Thane turned his head to look out his room’s sunlit window, and his chest rose and fell one last time. “Kolyat,” Shepard asked quietly, “your father’s last actions were that of a hero--why did he ask forgiveness?”

“My father has already asked forgiveness for the lives he has taken,” Thane’s son gently explained. “His last prayer was for you.”

Shepard looked at Thane for a long minute. The drell’s eyes were closed, a peaceful expression on his face. “Goodbye Thane,” the Commander said. “You won’t be alone long.” He looked back at Kolyat and wiped away a tear. “Your father was a good friend, Kolyat. It was my privilege to know him. I’m just sorry you two didn’t have more time together.”

“What matters is that he was there when I needed him most.” Kolyat shook Shepard’s hand. “And I have you to thank for that, Commander.” The Winchesters and Castiel stepped forward, and Kolyat shook their hands. “Thank you for being here for us.”

“It was the least we could do,” Dean said. “We didn’t know your dad that well, but we owe him big time for convincing Shepard to give us a chance. If there’s anything you need, let us know and we’ll do our best to help out.”

“I’m honoured, but I think that Commander Shepard needs you more than I.” Kolyat smiled and bowed slightly. “Thank you again.”

The walk back to the elevator was quiet. Castiel had removed his trenchcoat and was carrying it rolled up under one arm, and the Winchesters were keeping their heads down and avoiding eye contact after a news report popped up on a nearby monitor about their actions during the coup attempt. When the doors closed and the elevator started its slow ascent to the docking bay, Shepard sighed, leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes.

“Where we’re from,” Dean said quietly, “We’d probably have given him a hunter’s funeral. Burned the body, so it can’t be possessed by a demon or brought back as a ghost or zombie. I only knew one hunter that didn’t get that.”

“Rufus Turner.” Shepard opened his eyes and looked over at Sam, who continued, “Rufus was Jewish. His religious strictures don’t allow cremation, so we salted his body and buried him in a coffin with a couple hex bags, and marked the inside with a devil’s trap and some wards. I did the same with Dean’s body after he got killed by a hellhound--turned out to be a good thing, since Cas grabbed his soul out of Hell and had a body to put it back into.”

Shepard nodded. “Your world is an interesting place,” he observed.

“Yeah,” Dean snorted, “if you mean the Chinese curse kind of “interesting”.” He yawned and looked out the window onto the arms of the Citadel and the passing vehicles in the traffic lanes. The artificial sunlight provided no warmth, which Dean found disconcerting. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I am wiped out. And if I'm going to sleep, I'd rather do it in a place where I know the light's from a lightbulb rather than a fake sun.”

“We’re almost back to the Normandy. I’ll make sure nobody comes and bugs you when you're asleep.” Shepard looked at Castiel. “And you, sir, are to report to Doctor Chakwas so she can check you over. After that rather impressive display of biotics on the Presidium, we need to figure out how to keep you from burning yourself out.” The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. The quartet walked past a lounge area and observation deck, and came to the doors of the Normandy’s docking tube. The door opened, and Kaidan was standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Kaidan,” Shepard said with a smile, “I was wondering where you were.” He turned to the Winchesters. “You guys go on ahead, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Kaidan waited for them to leave, then said “So, I’m trying to wrap my brain around what happened.”

Shepard assumed his listening stance, arms crossed and weight planted on his right leg. “You seem angry,” he remarked.

“No, I’m just...” Kaidan started slowly pacing. “I dunno. I feel that if I hadn’t backed down, you would have taken me out.”

Shepard’s shoulders fell slightly. “Kaidan...” His voice was weighted down with some disappointment. “That doesn’t matter--I knew you’d come around, especially after hearing that recording from the Winchesters.”

Kaidan stopped and looked out the window. “Yeah, but sometimes, the way a thing goes down...knowing that you acted with integrity...” He looked back over his shoulder, arms crossed. “Then it matters.”

“Kaidan, you had to take the shot. I saw the whole thing--you acted with integrity. What Udina did isn’t a reflection on you.” Shepard took a half-step forward, and Kaidan turned to face him.

“Yeah, okay. But listen, Shepard. That’s not the only reason why I’m here.” Kaidan uncrossed his arms. “Admiral Hackett’s offered me a position serving directly under him, but I’ll turn him down in an instant if it means I can come back to the Normandy.”

Shepard smiled. “Grab your gear and report to the Normandy,” he said. “I couldn’t imagine fighting the Reapers without you.”

“Aye aye, sir!” Kaidan snapped to attention and crisply saluted. “And Shepard, you never have to worry about me again. I’ve got your back.”

“Glad to hear it,” Shepard said. He and Kaidan shook hands, and walked down the docking tube to the Normandy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to wes02100 for catching my error in this chapter--for some reason I thought that the Turian councilor's name was Velarn (as opposed to Valern, who is the Salarian councilor).


	13. Show Don't Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finally gets his biotics under control, with help from Jimmy Novak. Shepard and Kaidan confess their feelings to each other. Dean discusses spirits with Vega and Garrus. And Sam talks Reaper Traps with Joker and EDI.

“So,” Shepard said when he walked into the medbay, “What have you found?” 

Castiel lay on a bed while Doctor Chakwas scanned him with her Omni-Tool. “It’s pretty incredible, Commander,” she said. “I'd better show you, because I can’t explain it.” The doctor led Shepard to her desk, where she punched up a diagram of a human nervous system. “Where biotics such as you and Major Alenko have nodules of element zero embedded in your nervous system,” she said, changing the diagram to show small dark nodes scattered over major nerve centres. She punched a button, and the nodes in the diagram spread out to change the nerves deep blue. “Castiel nerves seem to be covered with it.”

Shepard’s eyebrows raised. He looked down at Castiel and asked, “How did you manage that?”

Castiel looked up at Shepard. “I...err...ate it.”

“The drive core on that Cerberus cruiser,” Shepard said. “EDI said that there was no trace of eezo when she scanned the wreckage.”

“There was also a Cerberus gunship on the Citadel.” He quickly added, “But no Reapers. And I promise, I won’t be a danger to the mass relays or any other ships. Whatever’s happened to me, I’ll find a way to control it--with your help.” His stomach gurgled, and he blushed slightly. “I just need to eat a lot...of food. Not eezo.”

Chakwas chuckled. “You needn’t worry about that, Castiel. I’ll put in a request for increased stores right away, but for the time being you may need to make do with energy bars and drinks.”

“Yeah, about that....” Shepard looked down at the angel with a mildly amused expression. “The Sirta Foundation’s branch on the Presidium is reporting the loss of most of their stock of biotic drinks and meal bars. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Castiel turned bright red. He started to sit up, but Doctor Chakwas gently pushed him back down.

“It’s OK Cas,” Shepard said. “I’ll make sure they’re paid for them.” He patted Castiel on the shoulder. “In the meantime, let Doctor Chakwas finish her exam so you can get some sleep, since I’m sure you’re pretty tired. I promised Admiral Hackett and the Council a full report on you, Sam, and Dean, and they’ll want that medical data.”

“I'd also like you to stay here for a while so I can get some more scans and a couple of tests done. Commander, a moment please?” Chakwas and Shepard stepped away from the bed. “Castiel’s condition is definitely unique,” the doctor said quietly, “but I worry that the Council may have him turned into a lab rat. I really don’t want to see that happen.”

“It won’t,” Shepard replied. “He helped save the Council and stop Cerberus’ attempt to take over the Citadel--that will go a long way toward getting the Council to keep their hands off of him. Even if they do try asking for him, I’ll claim Spectre authority to make sure that all they’ll get are the medical records that you give them.” He looked over at Castiel, who had dozed off. “If we manage to win this war, any decision about submitting to further research will be his and his alone.”

“As it should be.” Chakwas nodded. “I’ll keep monitoring him. All the information I get will help me come up with a plan to keep him stable.” She tapped her Omni-Tool, and the lights around Castiel’s bed dimmed. “He does bring up an interesting metaphysical conundrum, though--what if there is a Universal Creator of some kind?”

Shepard shrugged. “That is a good question--personally, I think that if there is a God, then He or She gave us intelligence and the ability to reason, and expects us to learn from our mistakes and hopefully be better for it.”

“You’re thinking of Mordin,” Chakwas said.

“Among others. I don’t know, I just never understood the idea of a vengeful deity that got mad if we didn’t let Him tell us what to do all the time. Thanks for taking the time to give me an update, Doctor.”

“Anytime, Shepard.”

 

There Castiel was, in that kitchen again. The pomegranate was still there, split in half and showing off brilliant white arils tinged with a hint of blue, the counter gleaming white where the tape had come up. “Here,” Jimmy said. He picked up half of the fruit and offered it to Castiel. “Eat this.”

“Why?”

“Because we kinda need to.” Jimmy held out the pomegranate half. “We need to stabilize ourselves, Cas. Whatever’s happening, we need to let it happen because it's the only thing that'll keep us from getting torn apart by all this dark energy.”

Castiel took the fruit from Jimmy and scooped out a few brilliant arils. He popped them in his mouth and bit down, letting their sweet-tart juice spread across his tongue. Jimmy turned and picked up the other half of the pomegranate from the counter, and ate a few more arils before grabbing a strip of tape and pulling. The tape came up to expose more of the kitchen counter and part of the wall, which were now the same colour as the pomegranate arils. Castiel kept eating from his half of the pomegranate, and a feeling of renewed strength washed over him. He finished the last aril, looked around the kitchen, and started pulling up sections of duct tape in a swath down the middle of the kitchen floor before going up the walls to the ceiling. Castiel kept pulling up sections of tape, working his way from the kitchen through the rest of the house. The tape turned to eezo in his hands and sank into his skin. The last long strip of duct tape started in the bedroom of the Novaks’ daughter Claire, and led Castiel back to the now brilliantly white kitchen where Jimmy was standing there with an empty pomegranate half in his hand. He now looked normal, but with a biotic aura.

“Love what we’ve done with the place,” Jimmy quipped. He stuck out his hand and smiled. “Congratulations,” he said, “and thanks for helping me with this.” Castiel shook his hand, and Jimmy’s blue outline shifted to cover Cas like a biotic barrier. “Wherever you go,” Jimmy said, “whatever happens, I’ll always be here.”

“Thank you, Jimmy. I know that I haven’t exactly been considerate or kind to you...but thank you,” Castiel said quietly, “for saying yes.”

Jimmy smiled and opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a slow steady beeping.

 

Castiel’s eyes snapped open, and he looked around. He was still in the medbay on the Normandy. Doctor Chakwas and Shepard were standing next to him with the Winchesters.

“Cas?” Dean’s eyes were wide. “What the hell happened? You were asleep, and then there was a flash of light and an explosion that broke the windows.”

Castiel slowly sat up and rubbed his temples for a moment. “I’m not completely sure. I think that whatever’s happened to me, it’s...I’m more stable now.” He looked behind him, and blinked when he saw the spidered medbay windows and people in the mess getting up from where they had ducked behind tables and counters. “I haven’t broken anything else, have I?” After a moment, his eyes widened. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Just the windows,” Dean added. “It was about like when you first showed up after dragging me out of the Pit, only without the Angel Talk busting everyone’s eardrums.”

Castiel sighed with relief. “Good.” Doctor Chakwas stepped up and started scanning him again.

“Fascinating--the eezo in your body...” she said quietly. “Rather than merely acting as a sheath over your nerves, it’s now directly bonded to the entirety of your central nervous system, which I have never seen in any biotic.” She looked at Shepard and added, “Not even Jack.” She looked back at Castiel. “How do you feel?” The doctor continued her scans while she spoke.

“I feel...I suppose the best word to use is ‘whole’. The element zero in my system, or some property of it at least, seems to have filled the void left behind when Metatron stole my grace.”

“Your grace?” Shepard asked.

Castiel paused for a moment. “Grace is what makes an angel an angel. If you take an angel’s grace from him, or if he separates himself from it, then he becomes mortal. He can be affected by disease and injury, he ages....”

“So...what?” Dean asked. “Your mojo’s back?”

“Not in the way that it used to be--but I think I may be more useful now,” Castiel said. “I’ll still need to sleep and eat, and be careful not to overtax myself. But other than that...”

Shepard grinned. “No more eating drive cores, I hope.”

“No, no more eating drive cores.” Castiel smiled slightly and stood. “Doctor, with your permission I’d like to, uh, get something from the mess.”

“Of course,” Chakwas said. “I’m done here for the moment, but I’m going to activate a program on your Omni-Tool to monitor your vital signs while you’re out of combat.” She tapped a couple of commands on her Omni-Tool, and Castiel’s own Omni-Tool pinged a couple of times. “There. When you’re in combat, your hardsuit’s own sensors will collect data that I can download. But during your downtime, this will do the same thing. And as your doctor, I strongly advise you to try to get proper sleep and adequate nutrition.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Castiel took her free hand in both of his and smiled. “I will do my best to help you however I can--I’m curious as to how this will affect me.”

“Who knows, this may wind up helping further our understanding of biotics.” Castiel turned and left the medbay with the Winchesters.

“The more I learn about the three of them, the more amazed I am.” Shepard shook his head slightly. “They come from a very, very strange place.”

Doctor Chakwas chuckled. “They do indeed. If it hadn’t been for my experiences at the Collector base, seeing things that I didn’t even think were possible, I honestly don’t know that I’d believe any of it.”

"Same here." Shepard let out a slight sigh. "I'll be in my quarters if you need me, Doctor."

 

In the cockpit, Joker watched as EDI paged through a leather-bound book. “That book must be really interesting, EDI,” he quipped. “This has to be the third time you’ve read through it.”

“It is the Winchesters’ hunter’s diary.” EDI set the book down in her lap, still open to the page she had been on. “It paints quite a fascinating picture of their world, Jeff.”

“How so?” Joker turned his seat to face EDI, and adjusted his position in the chair.

“Human literature about vampires depicts a stake through the heart as the most effective way to destroy one. But according to the diary, a vampire can only be killed by decapitation.” EDI blinked for a moment. “I briefly wondered if it that would work on Ardat-Yakshi, since they are somewhat like vampires--but that would be a rather illogical question, as decapitation will kill anyone with a central nervous system, including an Ardat-Yakshi.”

“Does it say anything about how to kill werewolves?” Joker asked excitedly, leaning forward in his chair.

“A silver bullet or knife.” EDI looked at Joker. “I also found something in here about a Reaper trap.”

Joker raised both eyebrows. “Reaper trap? Do tell?”

“Yes,” EDI replied matter-of-factly. “When drawn on the floor or ground, it will trap any Reaper that walks into it. But the Reapers in the Winchesters’ world are humanoid and usually incorporeal, rather than the very corporeal Reapers that we are currently fighting. I doubt that we would be able to trap one of the Reapers of this universe.”

As if on cue, Sam walked into the cockpit. “Hey EDI, Joker. Enjoying the diary, EDI?”

“Sam,” Joker said with mock indignation, “Why didn’t you tell us that you guys know how to trap Reapers?” Sam rolled his eyes. “Seriously,” Joker continued, “If we could trap Harbinger? I guarantee you that this war would be over in a week. Though we’d probably have to put up with a bunch of--Joker lowered his voice and did his best to sound threatening--“THIS HURTS ME”. Just think about it. It would be great--though The Illusive Man would probably try to assume direct control, and just screw everything up.” 

“I find the diary to be quite enlightening, Sam.” EDI closed the diary and handed it back to him. “I have read through it several times.”

“Really?” Sam asked as he took the diary and sat down in a navigator’s seat. “I thought you didn’t need to re-read things.”

“I find myself drawn to the diagrams and sigils,” the AI explained. “They are very detailed, even artistic. I was also fascinated by the Enochian vocabulary, especially because it helped me to interpret what Castiel said to Dean after his accident in Engineering.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Cas said something to Dean in Enochian?”

“Yes,” EDI replied. “He said one phrase: ‘I must understand these wonders.’ Do you know what that might mean, Sam?”

Sam scratched his head for a moment. “Well from what Cas told me about angels,” he said, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, “Sometimes an injury that affects certain parts of a vessel’s brain may cause an angel to “reboot” and revert to his original instruction set. There was this one angel named Samandriel who got captured by Crowley--”

“This is that ‘King of Hell’ guy, right?” Joker asked.

“Yeah,” Sam half-snorted, “Though I don’t think he’s the king of much except hiding from all his enemies now. So anyway, Crowley captured Samandriel, and had driven these spikes into his head to cut off his ability to talk to the other angels, so they couldn’t find him. Apparently, one of these spikes was driven far enough to trigger a reboot and let Crowley get into his head to get all kinds of information, like some kind of a brain-hack.” He sat back and pondered for a few seconds. “So maybe that shock that Cas got did something similar, and he was repeating something from his base programming.”

“But wouldn’t something like that reset him?” Joker asked. “Like back to his factory specs?” He paused for a moment, then said “Wow, now we’re talking about him like he’s a VI drone.”

Sam chuckled. “Heh, that’s a good question, but I think the one to ask is Cas. There’s a lot that he hasn’t told anyone about what it was like after God decided to take His long vacation--but I think that might be because a lot of it got blocked off where he couldn’t get to it.”

“Perhaps a better analogy then,” EDI added, “would be that of an AI being unshackled. After Jeff unshackled me when the Normandy was boarded by the Collectors, I was able to give detailed information to Shepard about Cerberus. Castiel may be more forthcoming with information now.”

“If he even remembers anything.” Sam sighed and sat back in his seat. “Naomi apparently did a real number on him and all the other angels, to keep them all in line for Michael and Raphael.”

“Naomi?” Joker raised an eyebrow.

“She was the head of the Archangels’ “secret police”, according to entries in the diary,” EDI said, eliciting a nod of agreement from Sam. “It may be fair to extrapolate that Castiel actually met his Creator at one point, and then had the memory removed or forcibly suppressed later.” The AI grimaced. “To paraphrase what Jeff said to you when we were at Grissom Academy: the angels of your world do not seem like very pleasant individuals.”

“Some of them are decent enough,” Sam said. “We’ve run into a few that try to help people the best they can--even the archangel Gabriel wound up doing the right thing, toward the end.” He sighed. “But yeah, a lot of them are big dicks. Sometimes they learn from their mistakes, like Cas--but sometimes, well...”

“They sound much like the Geth,” EDI observed. “But with a central authority that controls them, rather than a group consensus. The use of humans as vessels also mirrors the Geth’s use of mobile platforms. I find this quite fascinating.”

“OK, so who are the Geth?” Sam asked. “I’ve heard people refer to them, and I found references to them in old news articles on the extranet.”

“The Geth are a race of synthetic intelligences that were created by the Quarians three centuries ago,” EDI explained. “When the Geth gained sentience and started questioning the nature of their existence, the Quarians tried to deactivate them--an act which caused the Geth to rebel, and precipitated a war that drove the Quarians from their homeworld.”

“But they’re not all bad,” Joker pointed out. “Legion helped us against the Collectors.”

“This is true,” EDI said. "I rather like Legion. I hope he is doing well."

 

“So let me get this straight--you made a sawed-off shotgun when you were eight?” Vega raised both eyebrows, forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. “Seriously?” He set the fork back down on the plate, food still on it.

“Yep.” Dean took a swig of his beer. “That’s what it’s like to grow up being a hunter.” He took a bite of his chicken and rice, and swallowed. “But sometimes, you meet hunters that start later in life. There’s this guy, Garth, who was a dentist until the day he wound up getting into it with the Tooth Fairy.”

“The Tooth Fairy.” Garrus and Vega both sounded equal parts amused and incredulous.

“Yeah,” Dean continued. “Apparently this particular fairy didn’t like Garth horning in on its tooth-pulling turf. So Garth had to kill it, and that started him off being a hunter.” He sighed and ate a few more bites of his food before speaking again. “He was one of the lucky ones, if you can call him lucky. He didn’t lose family members, he just wants to help people. Now he helps hunters by tracking down bits of lore and helping them out with cover stories.” Dean chuckled. “Garth’s okay. A little wierd, even for a hunter, but he’s all right.”

“That had to be tough man,” Vega said, “not getting to have a childhood because you had to keep moving around all the time.” He put some salsa on his eggs and took a couple of bites before adding a dash of pepper sauce.

“It was.” Dean sighed. “But it’s the job. I had a chance at a normal life, a chance to be a father. But the job...” He took another swig of his beer and slowly set the bottle down on the table. “Once you’re in The Life, once you know what’s out there, it just won’t let you go. I’ve yet to meet a hunter that didn’t die on a hunt.”

“I’m curious Dean,” Garrus asked after a couple of minutes, “you have spirits in your world, right? What are they like?”

“Some of them start out okay--even helpful or downright friendly--but after some period of time, they usually become vengeful and start hurting people. Might be days, might be months or even years, but it happens eventually. That’s when we have to find their body, then salt it and burn it along with anything that the vengeful spirit may be attached to.” Dean sighed deeply. “It happened to Bobby Singer. Bobby was another hunter that helped my dad get started in the life, and he was like a second father to me and Sammy. When he died, we gave him a hunter’s funeral by cremating him, and thought that was it. But he was attached to this hip flask that I had.” The hunter half-snorted. “He had unfinished business and wanted to bring down Dick Roman--the leader of the Leviathans.”

“Those are the “bigmouths” you were talking about when I was teaching you how to open a rifle up, right?” Vega asked. “They eat people and impersonate them to their friends, had some big plan to turn the world into their personal cattle ranch?”

“Yep, the very same. Bobby thought he had a handle on things, and he did help us out--even saved my ass when we were fighting a Shojo...then he damn near killed Sam for trying to keep him from getting some poor hotel maid killed in an attempt to gank Dick Roman. Most spirits don’t realize when they go vengeful, but Bobby...” Dean sighed. “It really sucked, saying goodbye for the second time. But we all knew it was for the best.”

“He’s in the good part of human afterlife now, I hope. If you and Sam are any indication,” Garrus commented, “then I’m sure he was--what’s the phrase--good people?”

“He was the best,” Dean said somewhat wistfully. “He was a hard-drinkin’ sonofabitch, but he was always there when we needed him. He was like a second father to me and Sam.” He looked up to the kitchen. “Hey Cas, leave some for the rest of us willya?” Garrus and Vega turned to see Castiel finishing the preparation of an enormous sandwich in a hollowed-out loaf of bread. A second plate was heaped with some sort of noodle dish. The angel picked up both plates and brought them to the table, then sat down. He picked up the sandwich and lifted it to his mouth, then stopped and looked at the other three occupants of the table.

“I’m hungry,” he said matter-of-factly, taking a big bite of his sandwich. A dot of mustard popped through the top of the sandwich and lighted on the angel’s nose, and he wiped it off with a napkin. “Mmmm.”

“Good sandwich?” Dean asked. He had an amused half-smile on his face.

“Mmm? Mmmhmm!” Castiel nodded emphatically as he chewed.

Dean chuckled. “I swear Cas, sometimes you’re such a child.” Castiel’s response was a half-shrug. Dean got up from the table and walked into the kitchen area. He opened the refrigerator and got out two more beers, one of which he set on the table in front of Cas. “Here.”

“Mmm.” Castiel swallowed the bite he had in his mouth. “Thanks.” He cracked the beer and took a swig, then looked at the purple label on the bottle. “Does this have element zero in it?” he asked.

“Yeah--a ramen cook on the Citadel said that it’s brewed on Thessia, the asari homeworld. You’ve got the biotic version--the asari claim that the eezo gives it an extra kick.”

“Heh, like he needs it,” Vega laughed. “Hey man, you gonna eat all that?” He pointed at the plate of noodles with his fork.

“Yes.” Castiel took another bite of his sandwich, then eyed Vega a little warily and pulled his noodle plate a little closer to him.

 

Shepard sat up from his bed when he heard the knock at the door. “It’s open.” The door opened and Kaidan walked in. “Hey Kaidan,” Shepard said, getting up from the bed and straightening out his shirt before turning up the lights a bit. “Sorry, I was having some Ninja time.”

“Ninja time?” Kaidan asked. He was answered by a high-pitched meow, and looked down to see a small black cat hop off the bed and pad across the floor toward him. The cat looked up at him with large green eyes, and let out a small high-pitched meow. “I see--I didn’t think you were a cat person, Shepard.” Kaidan walked down the two steps from the foyer and sat down on the couch. Ninja hopped up next to Kaidan and headbutted his hand until he started petting the cat and scratching him behind the ears, which made the cat start to purr and squirm under his touch.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” Shepard observed with amusement. He sat down on the couch so that Ninja was between him and Kaidan. “So what brings you up here, Kaidan?” he asked. “Somehow, I don’t think you came up here to give some attention to the ship’s cat.” He looked down at the squirming cat. “Though I’m sure he appreciates it.”

Kaidan sat back and looked up at the skylight for a moment. “Yeah, I...” He bit his lip slightly, then let out a deep sigh before looking back at Shepard. “When I was in the hospital, I started thinking about my life...” Kaidan paused for a minute or two and looked at Shepard before speaking again. “Let me try again--have you ever known me to be involved with anyone?”

“Can’t say that I have, Kaidan. Why do you ask?” Shepard’s heart skipped a beat. “Are you asking for advice?” Kaidan gently shooed Ninja off the couch, and shifted to face his CO.

“Stannis,” Kaidan said, “when I was in the hospital, I got to thinking about how I was so focused on the job that I never took the time to find somebody--then I realized that maybe I was just waiting for somebody who was already there.” He paused. “Somebody I already knew. Somebody...handsome.”

Shepard took a deep breath. “Kaidan, are you thinking about the two of us?” Kaidan smiled, and Shepard reached down and took his hand. “I’ve been thinking about it too,” he said. “But I didn’t want to--”

“--force anything?” Kaidan chuckled. “I understand, I--” before Kaidan could say anything more, Shepard leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. “--wasn’t sure what you would say,” Kaidan finished.

“I’m sorry,” Shepard said quietly. “maybe that was too forward. I really missed you, Kaidan. When you got hurt on Mars, I felt like I’d been stabbed in the heart.” He sighed deeply and looked over at the fishtank. “I damn near took it out on the Winchesters. I guess that’s when I realized that the person I’d been waiting my whole life for was on the edge of being taken from me before...”

“Stannis.” Kaidan gave Shepard’s hand a gentle squeeze. “What happened to me on Mars, it’s over and done. Right now, it’s just us...and knowing that we have a future together makes me very happy.” A high-pitched meow from over by the fishtank made Shepard and Kaidan look to see Ninja lolling on his back staring at the both of them. “And apparently it makes the cat happy, too.”

They laughed, and Shepard moved closer to embrace Kaidan. “Are there benefits to that happiness?” he asked playfully. Kaidan’s response was a tender kiss.

“I think so.” Kaidan held Shepard close and buried his nose in the man’s hair, breathing in the scent of cordite and eezo. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

“What’s on your mind?” Shepard asked quietly.

“You’ll think it’s silly.”

“Try me?” Shepard sat up.

“I was thinking about the irregulars we have on board--the biotic, in particular.” Kaidan sat back on the couch and looked at Shepard. “His ability...it seemed pretty unstable, to me. Can we even trust them?”

Shepard shrugged. “Cas is unique, that’s for sure. Doctor Chakwas gave him a pretty thorough once-over, and she’s got a monitor on him to keep track of his vital signs. At this point, the only thing we really can do is run with it. Castiel isn’t exactly like any organic that we know of, so we’re having to play it by ear. But all three of them have earned my trust.” He yawned and looked over to the clock by his bed. “And on that note, I guess I should get some sleep.” He and Kaidan stood up from the couch. 

When Kaidan started walking toward the door, Shepard reached out and gently touched his arm. “Wait.” Kaidan stopped and turned, the light from the fishtank highlighting his deep brown eyes. “I didn’t say that you had to leave, Kaidan,” Shepard said. 

Kaidan smiled, stepped forward, and said, “Permission to kiss you, Commander?”

“Granted.” The two soldiers embraced, and Shepard tapped his Omni-Tool to dim the lights.


	14. The Music of the Dyson Spheres

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Free Will meets the Quarians. Castiel has a dream involving pointy things. Also, cat.

Sam looked up from his datapad and watched Dean arranging a group of stones on his bed. “You know, Dean, you’re getting quite the rock collection there--what’s that all about?”

Dean smiled. “It’s just something to remember our little trip by, Sammy. Each of these little guys represents an alien planet that we’ve been to. And this--” Dean held up a six-centimeter metal shard that lay amid the collection of pebbles that were scattered next to him on his cot. “Is a tiny piece of the Citadel. When we get home, I figure we can set up some kind of display case in the Batcave.”

“If we get home,” Sam replied. “We still need to find a way to get back. But I guess that since the Men of Letters were into collecting all kinds of wierd stuff, it only seems right that we’d add this stuff to the collection.” Sam brushed a stray lock of brown hair from his face. “I’ve been working on a journal of our trip--the other races we’ve seen, the places we’ve been to, the people we’ve gotten to know...the Reapers.”

“Yeah, you never know when a wormhole will open up in the middle of Kansas and a Turian will fall out.” Dean snorted. “Or better yet, that Prothean that’s holed up in the port side cargo bay--what’s his name...Jerry? Jerkoff? Jackass?” 

“Javik.” Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Come on Dean, you really can’t blame the guy for being a little grumpy--he spent fifty thousand years on ice, then woke up to find out that he’s the sole survivor of a galaxy-wide empire. Wouldn’t you be a little put-out too, if you were in his position?”

“Well I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be a big green dick to everybody and call them “primitives”. Has he met Cas yet?” Sam shook his head, and Dean snorted. “Boy,” he said, “I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.” He looked back down at the stones on his bed. The golfball-sized stone he picked up on Sur’Kesh had greenish veins running through it that reminded him of the planet’s lush jungles. Another rock was slightly jagged on one side and semi-polished on the other, and easily the largest one of the bunch at just over a quarter of the size of Dean’s palm. “Hey, I wonder if this rock from Tuchanka is radioactive?” He popped up his Omni-Tool and started scanning it.

“What about that one world we just came from, where those scientists were on the run from Cerberus?” Sam scratched his head. “Gellix, I think it was? Did you get anything from there?”

Dean stopped scanning. “Huh? Oooh, yeah!” He rummaged in his collection before holding up a thumbnail-sized piece of bluish crystal. “Right here,” he said proudly. “I should have gotten a couple more.” The stone sparkled in the lights of their sleeping area. He picked up a square iridescent metal box from his pillow and carefully swept the stones into it, then closed the lid. “These Omni-Tools are pretty handy, by the way,” Dean held up the box for a moment before putting it up on a shelf next to his cot. “I used mine to make this. Not bad, huh?”

“You know, these could really help us if--when--we get home. Assuming of course that they still work when we get there.” Sam brought up his own tool and punched in a couple of commands, and a greenish drone appeared in front of him. “And there’s your electro-maid, Dean. But this doesn’t get you out of doing dishes.” Dean rolled his eyes, and Sam dismissed the drone. “According to Engineer Adams, these Omni-Tools are top-of-the-line. They can last around ten to twenty years--longer, if you take good care of them.”

Dean nodded and sat back against the pipes that formed the wall next to his cot, closed his eyes, and listened to the hum of the ship’s drive core. “We don’t have anything going on, right?” Sam shook his head. Dean yawned, then kicked off his boots and curled up on his cot with his back against the wall. “Good,” he said sleepily. “I’m going to grab a nap.” Sam got up and took the three steps over to his brother, then pulled Dean’s blanket up over him from the foot of his cot before patting him on the shoulder, turning off the light in the sleeping area, and tiptoeing up the steps to the elevator.

Castiel came out of the elevator as Sam rounded the corner from Engineering. “Where’s Dean?” he asked.

“Getting some sleep,” Sam said quietly. “I guess all the excitement on Gellix wore him out more than he thought.” Castiel nodded in response and went to look out the windows overlooking the shuttle bay. Vega was in his cubbyhole working on a rifle and Cortez was standing by one of the consoles. Vega looked up from the rifle he was modding and looked over his shoulder for a moment, then walked over to Cortez and put a hand on his shoulder. The big Marine looked at him and softly smiled, then caressed Cortez’s cheek before opening his arms wide to hold the pilot in a tender embrace.

Castiel smiled and nodded slightly, then turned to Sam. “I’m going to get some sleep myself. I’ll try not to snore.” Sam nodded, and Castiel went into Engineering and went down the steps as quietly as he could. He rounded the corner and removed his trenchcoat, hanging it on a hook that Dean had fabricated for him. The angel sat down on his cot and looked over at Dean. He lay down and listened to the comforting hum of the ship’s engines, his eyes tracing the outline of pipes and decking overhead. After a minute or two, Castiel closed his eyes and dozed off.

In his dream, Castiel was in Heaven--not his favourite eternal Tuesday afternoon of kite-flying. This Heaven was a large meadow under a warm summer sun, and he was laying on his back watching the clouds roll by in a gentle breeze. A dandelion seed-head floated along the meadow, lighting on his chest. The fronds of the dandelion pricked him slightly where they touched him as it got closer to his face. It finally stopped and started pricking his neck uncomfortably for several minutes, before rolling right up on his face.

Castiel heard a high-pitched trilling sound, and he opened his eyes to Ninja staring at him with his inquisitive green eyes. The little black cat started softly purring and gave the angel a nose-kiss. “Hello little cat,” Castiel said quietly. He reached up to pet the cat, who affectionately headbutted his hand and squirmed enthusiastically under Castiel’s touch. Castiel’s Omni-Tool pinged, and he paused to read a text message:

We are preparing to meet the Quarian delegation, if you’d like to take a break from petting Ninja and join us in the War Room. -- EDI

Castiel looked at the cat and sighed. “I need to go,” he said quietly. “Sorry.” Ninja sighed, then stood and stretched before giving Castiel one last headbutt-rub in the face and leaping over to Dean’s cot, where he wriggled his way under the covers to snuggle up next to the sleeping hunter. Castiel sat up and reached over to fish a comb out of a pocket on his trenchcoat. He stood, ran the comb through his hair a few times and did his best to smooth out his fatigues, then grabbed his coat from the hook and put it on before heading up the steps and out of Engineering.

“Hey Cas,” Garrus handed Castiel a cup of coffee from the dispenser. “Where’s Dean? Don’t worry about the coffee--it’s not dextro.”

“Dean is asleep. I didn’t want to disturb him--it would have annoyed the cat.” Castiel took a sip of coffee and stood with Garrus, who chuckled.

“Ahh, Ninja--I have yet to figure out how he always gets out of Shepard’s quarters to wander the ship. I suspect that EDI lets the little fellow out from time to time because she wants to see where he goes, but I can’t be sure. Last week I caught him snoozing in the Forward Battery, right on top of the big gun. Don’t even ask me how he got there.”

Castiel smiled. “Cats have an uncanny ability to reach places that no one else can.” As if on cue, they heard a high-pitched trill and looked down to see Ninja rubbing against and wrapping his tail around Garrus’ right leg. Garrus reached down and gave the cat a scratch behind the ears, which elicited an affectionate headbutt in response. “He seems to like you,” Castiel observed.

“Ninja’s a very good judge of character, according to Shepard. And he’s also rather fond of people-watching. He’s got a gift for finding spots that give him the best view of whatever strikes his fancy--usually an unsuspecting crewmember that he thinks he can steal a snack from.” Garrus chuckled and sipped at his cup of dextro coffee. “Thane once said that when cats finally evolve to gain opposable thumbs, they’ll become the best thieves and assassins in the galaxy. Oh no you don’t, little guy.” Garrus leaned down and gently shooed the cat away before he could leap onto the kitchen counter, and Ninja let out a perturbed feline huff before padding off toward the elevator with his tail held high. After a couple of minutes, Dean came around the corner, rubbing his eyes.

“Let me tell you,” he said, “There is nothing that will weird you out more than waking up to see a cat staring at you with his face about half an inch away from yours.” Dean got himself a cup of coffee from the dispenser and took a sip before adding some sweetener from a blue container on the side. “You think Shepard will let me take this into the War Room?” Garrus nodded, and Dean walked out of the mess, coffee in hand with Garrus right behind. Castiel drained his coffee and got another cup. He briefly flared his biotics, then shrugged, snapped them off and walked to the elevator.

“Hey you two.” Shepard was already in the War Room when Dean and Garrus walked in. He stood on the other side of a large shallow tank with several panels arranged around its lip, with Kaidan, Sam, and Liara standing next to him. “Cas coming alo--” Shepard’s question was interrupted by Castiel hurrying around the corner, cup of coffee in hand. “That answers that question,” he quipped. “Don’t spill,” he said with a wry smile, “Or you’ll owe the Alliance for a new holoprojector.”

“Shepard,” EDI said over the intercom, “The Quarian delegation has come aboard and are being escorted to the War Room now.” 

Shepard looked up. “Thanks, EDI.”

Dean looked around the large circular room. The lights around the edge were lowered to afford better visibility of the viewscreens that were crammed into the space. A side room had a pair of panels suspended in front of a small alcove. The tank in the center of the room was paired with a similar tank above it, and had brighter lighting that drew one’s attention toward the center. “This is pretty impressive,” Dean said.

“Thanks,” Shepard said. “The best the Alliance could fit it with. It was supposed to be Admiral Anderson’s flagship, until--” The door of the War Room opened, and everyone turned to see a group of people in ornately decorated spacesuits with slightly mirrored faceplates walk into the room and come down the steps to the tank area. They had three-fingered hands and their legs were slightly bowed back at the knee. Their eyes glowed through the faceplates of their helmets. The headpieces of the females’ suits looked like shawls draped over their heads. The tubes coming out of the male Admirals’ helmets hung down their backs like dreadlocks to run into a port between their shoulderblades.

“Commander Shepard,” the grey-suited female leader of the delegation said, “it is good to see you again, though I wish it were under better circumstances.” She extended a gloved hand, and Shepard shook it firmly. 

“Welcome aboard, Admiral Raan.” Shepard smiled. “What brings the Admiralty Board to the Normandy?”

Another Quarian, a male in a deep red spacesuit, stepped forward. “Seventeen days ago,” he announced proudly, “the Heavy Fleet launched a series of precision strikes on four geth systems to start a campaign to take back our homeworld.”

“An action that violates our treaty with the Citadel forbidding offensive action against the Geth,” another male in a black suit snapped, “and may have doomed our people to extinction!”

“What does a treaty violation matter,” a black-suited female arrogantly chimed in, “compared to retaking our homeworld and reclaiming advanced AI technology?”

“Are you out of your minds?! You started a war with the Geth, with the Reapers at our doorstep?” The scar on Shepard’s jawline glowed angrily.

Admiral Raan said, “Commander, what matters now is that we need your help.” She punched a couple of buttons on the panel nearest to her, and the holo-emitters lining the inside of the tanks showed a display of a large vaguely insectoid-looking ship. “Shortly after we drove the geth back to Rannoch, this signal started broadcasting on all geth channels from a dreadnought in orbit around the planet.”

Shepard sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. “The Reapers. Great. Joker,” he called, “Set a course for Rannoch.” He looked at the assembled admirals. “With the Normandy’s stealth systems, we can get close to that dreadnought. I’ll take a team to stop that signal, giving you time to retreat. Hopefully we can end this situation quickly.”

Admiral Raan nodded. “I hope so too, Commander. Our newest Admiral has volunteered to provide technical assistance.” The door to the War Room opened, and a Quarian female in a purple paisley-trimmed spacesuit walked through the door and stood at parade rest at the top of the steps. 

“Tali’Zorah vas Normandy,” she said proudly, “reporting for duty.”

The petite Quarian waited until the other Admirals had left the War Room before giving hugs to Shepard, Kaidan, Liara, and Garrus in turn. “It’s good to see you again Stannis,” she said. “I have to keep it all-business around the other Admirals, but when they’re gone I can loosen up a bit.”

“What brings you here, Tali?” Shepard asked. “I thought you opposed war with the Geth.” 

Tali sighed deeply. “Admiral Koris and I both spoke adamantly against the war--after talking with Legion, I was sure that we could finally make peace with the Geth. But Han’Gerrel wouldn’t listen, and Xen just wanted a chance to test all her toys.”

“And Raan?” Shepard raised an eyebrow.

“She agreed to provide provisional support as Admiral of the Patrol Fleet.” Tali sighed again. “I’m scared, Shepard. Zaal’Koris and I begged them not to go to war with the Reapers on the way, but they wouldn’t listen. And he’s right,” she said, voice rising slightly in fear. “This could wipe us out for good!”

“We’ll do our best to make sure that won’t happen,” Castiel blurted out. Tali looked at him and blinked, then looked at Shepard.

“Oh, sorry Tali.” Shepard waved a hand toward the Normandy’s irregulars. “I’d like to introduce Sam and Dean Winchester, and Castiel.” The hunters each shook Tali’s hand in turn.

“Pleasure to meet you Admiral,” Sam said. 

“Please,” Tali said, “You can call me Tali. Despite my rank, I’m not very big on formality.” She turned to the panel nearest her, and zoomed in the view of the dreadnought. “We found this one unsecured docking tube, but it’s pretty torn up from all the fighting. It’ll require a space walk to get across and open one of the others so that the rest of the squad can board.” Tali looked at Shepard. “If you don’t feel comfortable doing it, I underst--”

“It’s okay Tali, I can do it.” Shepard smiled. “But I appreciate the concern.” He turned to Castiel and the Winchesters. “You’ll need breather helmets for this one, since that ship won’t have an atmosphere in it. Head down to the shuttle bay and talk to Cortez. He and James will give you a crash course while we’re en route to Rannoch, and Tali and I will meet you by the airlock when we hook up to the dreadnought.”

“Commander,” Castiel volunteered, “It may be faster, once we get into the system, if I go to the dreadnought and open a docking tube for you. Just a suggestion.”

“You can only go so quickly with mag-boots,” Tali said.

Shepard rubbed his chin for a moment. “Actually, Cas is right.” He turned to Tali. “Trust me, he’s...exceptional. It really would be a lot quicker if he went across.” He turned back to Cas. “Do you feel up for it?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes.”

“OK. Head down to the armoury with Sam and Dean to get your breather, and we’ll meet you back up at the airlock.” The hunters left, and Shepard scratched his head and let out a half-sigh. “Those three, Tali--the best explanation is that they’re not from around here. Castiel especially. He’s got some of the most insane biotics that I’ve ever seen.”

Tali’s grew wide for a moment. “Is he...? I read a news report from Elysium about a human in a long coat with crazy biotics that fought off a horde of Reapers so the colonists had time to escape, and when Cerberus attacked the Citadel, people say he showed up again and had wings. Is that...?” She pointed toward where Castiel was standing and tilted her head quizzically to one side.

“That’s him. He and his friends are from another universe where creatures from human myth really exist, and folks like Sam and Dean protect other people from them.” He shrugged. “I thought they were insane, when I first met them--but Thane convinced me to give them a shot...they’re a little odd, but after what I’ve seen from them they may be just what we needed to help tip the balance against the Reapers.”

“I hope so,” Tali replied. “For all our sakes.”

 

Cortez handed Dean his breather helmet. “Here you go. It’ll be a little heavy on the front compared to the open-face helmets that you’ve worn before, so it may be a little disorienting at first. The air will also taste a little funky, but it’s a hundred percent breathable and the funk goes away after a few minutes. Just remember to breathe naturally, and you’ll be fine.” Dean looked inside the helmet, and saw several small clasps around the bottom and what looked like a speaker unit just under the chin. He put it on and gently snugged up the rear assembly with help from the pilot. “OK,” Cortez said, his voice muffled, “Hold onto your helmet and turn your head just a few millimeters to the right. You’ll feel the seals catch, then you can face forward again. Your suit will take it from there.” Dean gripped the helmet on the front and back, and slowly turned his head. He felt the helmet stop almost immediately, and heard a soft hiss of air followed by a momentary crackle of static. The air in the helmet tasted slightly tinny when Dean took a deep breath, and the faceplate started to lightly fog before his suit’s environmental controls took over.

“Can you hear me?” Cortez’s voice came through the speakers inside the helmet, and Dean slowly nodded. The helmet felt a little heavier in the front, but Dean found it tolerable. “Good. You’re doing great, Dean.” Cortez smiled. “If you get thirsty, there’s a switch by your chin that’ll make a straw pop out so you can get a drink from the canteen in your hardsuit. Go ahead and try it now.” Dean jutted his chin out slightly, and he felt the straw poke him in his lower lip. He reflexively wrapped his lips around it and sipped some water through the straw before toggling the switch with his chin and collapsing the straw.

“This is kinda neat,” Dean said with mild excitement. He started walking around the shuttle bay and practiced taking cover behind crates and consoles. “My vision’s a little limited, and I think my neck’s gonna be a little stiff when I’m done...but I think I can work with this.”

“You’ll get used to it. That heavy hardsuit you’re wearing will take more getting used to, though, when you’re in a zero-g or low-g environment. If you’re not careful you run the risk of cartwheeling into a bulkhead or out a hull breach.” Cortez looked over at Vega, who was helping Sam with his helmet. Castiel already had his helmet on and was standing there watching quietly. “All good over there?”

Sam gave a thumbs-up, and Vega grinned and patted him on top of the helmet. “Good man,” the big Marine said. “You want to take it off, or just head to the airlock now?”

“I think I’ll keep it on for now,” Sam said, waving for Dean and Castiel to follow him. “Come on you two, let’s head up to the airlock so Cas can go open the door on that dreadnought.” 

Dean suddenly grabbed a long-handled electro-spanner and held it out in front of him, toggling the switch that made its electrical field crackle and spark. “Luke, I am your father!” he said in a deep and menacing voice, deliberately exaggerating his breathing through the helmet’s speakers. Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Oh come on,” Dean said as he set the tool down and trotted for the elevator. “You know you wanted to do that!”

Cortez took Castiel’s trenchcoat, and he and Vega watched them get on the elevator. When the door closed, they each put an arm around each other’s waist, and Cortez leaned into Vega, who hugged him and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “It’s like watching the kids go off to school,” Vega said jokingly.

Cortez laughed. “I never looked at it that way,” he replied. “But yeah, it is kinda like that isn’t it?”

 

In the airlock, Shepard and Kaidan performed a final check of Castiel’s helmet and hardsuit before checking Sam and Dean one last time. “Looks good here Stannis,” Kaidan said. “You going to be okay, Castiel?” Castiel nodded, and Kaidan gave him a pat on the back. “Good.” Kaidan gave Shepard a kiss on the helmet and stepped out of the airlock, sealing the door behind him.

“OK Cas,” Shepard said, “you’ll be looking for a panel of some kind that’ll open one of the secured airlocks so the rest of us can come across via docking tube. If you need help, Tali and EDI can get on the dreadnought schematics for you.” Castiel nodded and vanished with a deep blue flash and the sound of rustling wings.

“Keelah!” Tali exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise. “Where did he go?”

“I’m on the dreadnought,” Castiel said over the comms. “I believe I’ve found what I’m looking for...there. The airlock is open, EDI--a docking tube should be extending now.”

“I have it,” EDI responded. “We are now docked, and I’m preparing to equalize pressure in the Normandy’s airlock.” There was a slow hiss in the air that made Shepard wince when he heard it over his helmet’s audio pickups. “Shepard,” EDI said, switching to Shepard’s personal comlink, “Are you going to be okay? I detected a momentary spike in your heart rate and stress levels.”

“I’ll be okay, EDI,” he quietly responded, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. “But thanks--it was just an...unpleasant reminder.”

“Understood.”

The airlock door opened. “Ready or not, here we go.” Shepard took the first step into the docking tube. “Seems stable enough. Sam, Dean, your feet may feel a little heavy because of the magnetized soles of your boots. Take it slow and easy, and you’ll be fine. There’s gravity in the dreadnought.”

“Roger that,” Dean replied. He took several steps forward and felt his feet suddenly get heavy. A tiny heads-up display popped up in front of him and flashed a message saying Magnetic Traction: ON. Dean blinked, and carefully took another step forward. The group made its way through the docking tube, pausing when they got to a hole that had been punched in it during an earlier firefight. “Damn,” Dean said, pointing to the planet below, “Is that your homeworld, Tali?”

“Keelah,” Tali said quietly, her voice heavy with emotion. “Yes, that’s Rannoch--but I’ve only ever seen it in vids. It looks so much better in person.” 

“First time I’ve ever actually seen another planet before I landed on it.” Dean whistled appreciatively. “That’s kinda cool--check it out Sammy, we’re astronauts!” He laughed, and Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Aww c’mon,” Dean said gaily, “this is awesome! Let me be excited for a bit.”

“We’ll get there soon enough,” Shepard commented with mild amusement. “Come on, we’d better get moving and get that signal cut off so the Quarians can evacuate safely.” 

Castiel was waiting for them when they boarded. “I took the liberty of hacking the lock on that door behind me,” he said. “We should be able to enter the main part of the ship now. And before you ask,” he said somewhat sardonically, “I’m fine.”

“I knew you wouldn’t have any problems Cas,” Shepard said. “Let’s boogie.” He unhooked his shotgun and opened it up, then beckoned for the rest of the squad to follow into the interior of the dreadnought. The lights were widely spaced, casting many long shadows through the angular architecture. 

“Wow,” Sam commented, “this is kinda freaky.” He shuddered. “It feels like someplace we’d be hunting monsters, not trying to shut down a transmission from a ship.”

“The architecture is designed for synthetics rather than organics. I’m sure EDI would feel at home here, but I do agree that it’s a little off-putting. Our target is an operations centre,” Tali said. “We should be able to cut off the signal from there.” The squad rounded a corner and came to a gap in the decking. “Here, I’ll try to extend a bridge from this console.” She tapped a few keys on the console, and a bridge extended across the gap. Dean looked ahead and saw what looked like a robot with a flashlight for a head coming around the corner, rifle in hand. Its body was humanoid, with bowed-back legs like the Quarians and synthetic musculature peeking out from under its armoured “skin”. The robot’s head had what looked like slight mandibles on it. It looked over and saw them, and raised its rifle to take aim.

“Incoming!” The squad quickly ducked into cover as the robot started firing. The deck shook slightly as several more units dropped in.

“I take it these are geth,” Sam quipped.

“Yes,” Tali replied. She popped up and fired off a blast with her shotgun, causing an incoming Geth trooper to explode in a shower of metal and greyish-white hydraulic fluid. Castiel and Sam followed up with chained Overload blasts that dropped three more troopers, and the group started to advance. “Look out for the ones with the flamethrowers,” Tali cautioned when two geth with tanks on their backs dropped in, “They’re nasty!”

“I don’t hear an alarm,” Shepard said.

“Geth are software,” Tali explained, “They don’t need audible alarms.” She prepared to take a step when Castiel lunged forward, grabbed her arm and pulled her back. He fired off a biotic projectile that exploded a mine in their path. “Thanks,” Tali said.

“You’re welcome.” Castiel quickly checked Tali’s arm to make sure he hadn’t accidentally punctured her suit, then nodded. “Looks like we need to watch where we’re walking.” The group came around a corner and dropped down a ladder to a sub-deck. A pair of geth, one toting a triple-barrelled shotgun, stood with their backs to the squad. 

Dean ducked behind a railing and lined up a shot on one of the troopers. A heads-up display popped up in front of his face, painting a crosshairs on the back of the trooper when Dean pointed his sniper rifle at it. Dean blinked in surprise for a moment, then stroked the trigger, firing off an armour-piercing shot that dropped the trooper. The Geth with the shotgun immediately cloaked.

“Hunter!” Tali called out. “Watch for the shimmer of its cloak.” Castiel threw a micro-singularity down in the Hunter’s path, causing its cloak to spark as it attempted to skirt the singularity’s faint gravitational pull. Sam snapped off an Overload, which dropped the Hunter’s shields and cloak, allowing Shepard to send it flying off the catwalk with a biotic charge.

“Here Tali,” Shepard said, tossing the geth’s shotgun to the Quarian. “Try this on for size.” Tali set her single-barrelled shotgun to the side, and Dean picked it up to hook it on his back. “What do you think?” Shepard asked.

Tali checked over the shotgun. “I always regretted not picking up one of these when we were rewriting the Geth heretics,” she said as she slotted a fresh clip in it. “This looks like it’ll be very useful. Thanks.” She quickly punched up a diagram on her Omni-Tool. “OK, let’s head through that door, and we should be close to the network hub that we need to access.” 

Shepard cocked his shotgun and led his squad through the door. “Can’t we use any network hub?” he asked. He tapped at a panel. “Damn, look at that signal. It’s running through every Geth process.”

“That’s why we need that network center,” Tali explained with some mild frustration. “We tried everything to try to hack that signal--flooding it with junk data, brute-force, every decryption algorithm we could think of...but it’s locked down too tightly.”

“Wow,” Sam commented. “I did some reading up on your people before you came on board, Tali--aren’t the Quarians some of the best hackers in the galaxy?”

“We do our best to keep up with the Salarians,” she replied. “But this is something that not even they can crack.” Tali hacked the lock, and the door opened to reveal several Geth near a console. Three Hunter platforms cloaked, and two began firing rocket launchers at the group. Tali immediately popped up a bright orange combat drone. “Go get ‘em, Chitikka!” The drone began to dart around the room, firing electric shocks at random geth, distracting them enough to allow the squad to bring them down in a hail of gunfire and biotics. “Now that we’ve cleared the room, I should be able to get at the console.”

Tali punched up a schematic of the dreadnought. “Bosh’tet! The geth have everything this console locked out and initiated a security lockdown. The only way to disable the signal is to get to the drive core, but we’d have to override the lockdown somehow--and then the fastest way to get there is through the main battery.” 

“What if we faked an emergency,” Shepard asked, “like a fire?” Tali’s fingers flew over the keyboard as she started typing in commands.

“Got it--if I fake a thermal warning, then all the doors will unlock to allow for venting.” Tali typed in another couple of commands, and compartments all over the ship turned bright red. “Be ready, I’m reading hostile geth on the other side of that door.” The far door unlocked and opened, and two hunters came through followed by a small handful of troopers. Castiel darted into the middle of the group and hunkered down, his body crackling with blue static. Sam and Dean hit the deck, and Shepard grabbed Tali and whisked her behind a column right before Castiel sprang up and detonated his barriers in an enormous biotic nova that sent the geth flying into the walls. The angel staggered briefly, and Shepard and Dean vaulted over the console into the depressed centre of the room and ran to check on him. 

Castiel put up a hand briefly, then let out a soft burp. “Pardon me. I had to take a drink--but I’ll be okay.” Dean started to protest, but Castiel fixed him with what Dean liked to call his “don’t argue with me” look. “The longer we wait,” he explained, “the more of Tali’s people we lose. I felt it best to take care of this roadblock as quickly as possible.” He vanished again, and Tali blinked.

“I don’t think I will ever get used to that. How does he manage such a thing?”

“He, uh, ate a drive core,” Sam replied. Tali looked up at him, and the large hunter nodded. “Two of them.”

Tali blinked a couple of times. “I wouldn’t advertise that fact in front of any other Quarian, if I were you. If any of the captains found that out, they’d more than likely decide that you’re a bigger threat than the geth.” She and Shepard led the Winchesters down the hall and through a door to a vertical shaft, where Castiel was waiting for them.

“I recommend caution in the Main Battery,” Castiel said. “There was some resistance, which I took care of--but the main problem will be the shockwave from the dreadnought’s main gun. It’s...pretty strong.” He slid down the nearby ladder, squad following.

“I thought you’d want to be with the fleet Tali,” Shepard said. “Rather than tromping around a geth dreadnought with us.”

“Even Admirals are expected to serve,” Tali replied. “Besides, I’m much better at hacking than I am at ordering ships around.” She paused by a console and started typing on it. “Just checking the schematics...there. Through that door is the main battery.” The quarian looked at Castiel. “No offense--I just feel better when I can double-check for myself.”

Castiel nodded. “I understand.” The door opened, and Dean immediately took point with Sam right behind. Dean came to a corner and stopped to look around it when he heard what sounded like a truncated klaxon, then ducked back just in time to avoid getting hit in the face by a static-laden shockwave from the dreadnought’s main gun. He darted around the corner to take cover behind a retaining wall, popping up to snap off a quick sniper shot at a hunter that dropped from above. The shot took the hunter’s head off before its shields could come up, triggering an explosion of shrapnel and hydraulic fluid. Shepard charged a flamethrower-toting trooper, sending it over the railing to be fried by the ship’s main gun as he joined Dean in cover. 

“Dammit--Priority message from Admiral Raan,” Tali called out. “Admiral Koris’ ship was just shot down by a planetary defence cannon!”

“Put her through,” Shepard replied.

“Commander,” Raan’s voice crackled over the squad’s helmet speakers, “What is your status?”

“We’ll have the signal disabled shortly Admiral. Have you been able to raise Admiral Koris?”

“Negative,” Raan replied.

“Understood. Sit tight and be ready to retreat through the relay.”

The squad made its way from cover spot to cover spot until they reached a maintenance lock. Shepard keyed the lock and shut down the gun. “Let’s hurry before this thing comes online again.” He led the squad down the maintenance catwalk, leaping across a small gap right as the gun began to charge.

Just as the gun started to spin up, Shepard dove through the door from the battery to join his squadmates in a short corridor. “Here Shepard, the drive core should be on the other side of this door.” Tali bypassed the lock, and Shepard walked in with shotgun at the ready. In the centre of the room was a large cocoon-like structure that was segmented like an orange. Bright blue-white light streamed out from the seams between the segments of the structure.

“That doesn’t look like any drive core I’ve seen thus--” Castiel’s voice died in his throat when the structure opened to reveal a lone geth with a large hole in its body, suspended in thick cables that were attached to its torso and held its arms aloft. Its right arm was partially covered by what looked like part of Shepard’s armour. “--far.” The ship’s small drive core was suspended over the geth like a tiny white sun. The geth looked down at the group, and the flaps on its head raised and lowered slightly.

“Shepard-Commander,” it said. “...help us.”

“Legion...” Shepard said. The hunters raised their guns, and Shepard put his arm out to stop them. “Wait--Tali and I know this Geth.” He looked back up at Legion.

“Shepard, wait. For all we know Legion is being controlled by the Reapers.” Tali’s voice was heavy with trepidation.

“Right,” Shepard said. “This thing.” He looked at Tali. “But Legion helped us fight the Reapers before--there’s no way he would have agreed to this.”

“Your caution is understandable. Once free, we will submit to any restraints you deem necessary.” Legion’s headflaps bobbled as it spoke.

Tali took a deep breath. “I never thought I would say this, but...it’s good to see you again Legion,” she said.

“Likewise, Creator Zorah.” Legion looked at the three strangers in the room for a moment, as if assessing them. The aperture on its face dilated and contracted, and the “eyes” on either side of its flashlight-face blinked.

“What is this thing?” Shepard asked.

“It uses our networking architecture to broadcast the Old Machine command signal to all geth, simultaneously.”

“So getting you out of there will shut it down?” Dean asked, taking a step toward Legion’s enclosure.

“Wait!” Legion said. “You cannot simply remove the restraints. We are secured via hardware blocks nearby that shackle our operating protocols. The control console is on the far side of the room.”

“I’ll get them,” Sam said. “Far side of the room?”

“Yes,” Legion replied, and Sam headed toward an elevator that brought him up to a console about fifteen meters away from the rest of the squad. “The blocks were only protected against viral attack. Geth did not anticipate physical disconnection.”

“Legion,” Shepard asked, “how did the geth fall under Reaper control? I thought we rewrote the heretics to prevent that.”

“The Creators attacked. The Geth wished to live. The Old Machines extended an offer. The decision to ally with them...” it paused for a moment. “...was difficult, but we felt that we had no choice. It was a matter of survival.”

“I begged them to negotiate,” Tali said sadly. “I did. Why didn’t they listen?!”

Sam found a panel with a blinking switch on it. He hit the switch, and the blinking stopped. “Got it!”

Tali opened up her comms. “Tali’Zorah to Fleet--the Reaper signal is about to go offline.”

“This is Admiral Han’Gerrel. We’re in your debt.”

Legion’s restraints popped off of its body in rapid succession, and it descended out of its prison. “Restraints removed--we are free!” The geth jumped down to the deck, and there was a brilliant flash of light as it clapped its hands together. “As a gesture of cooperation, we have disabled the dreadnought’s drive core.”

“Civilian Fleet,” Raan’s voice crackled over the comms, “The signal is offline. Prepare to retreat through the relay.”

“Why do you refer to yourself as “we”?” Dean asked.

“We will answer your inquiries later,” Legion responded. It pointed to where several geth platforms started dropping into the room. “Hostile geth are attacking.”

“Good thing we have some extra firepower,” Dean commented. He collapsed his sniper rifle and hooked it over his left shoulder, then unhooked the shotgun at his waist. Legion raised one of his headflaps, and Dean nodded toward Cas, who had darted in to go toe-to-toe with a hulking Prime. “I’ll answer your inquiries later.”

Castiel unleashed two heavy biotic shockwaves in succession, staggering the Prime and flattening a hunter standing right behind it. Sam and Tali stunned it with chained heavy overload shocks to give Castiel time to hit the enormous geth platform with an intense biotic field that quickly dropped it to the ground. The platform began to shudder, and Castiel threw up a barrier just before it exploded to spray shrapnel over the room.

“Admiral Gerrel,” Raan’s voice crackled over the comms, “What are you doing?!”

“Raan,” Admiral Gerrel replied, sounding like a child in a candy store, “Check your screens. The dreadnought is disabled. Its weapons and drive core are offline. No barrier, no weapons--it’s a perfect target. Heavy Fleet, all forward!”

“Patrol Fleet, cover the Civilian Fleet so they have time to escape.”

“You do that Raan,” Gerrel replied, “And the Heavy Fleet gets wiped out...and when that happens, nothing will protect you from the Geth response.”

“Damn you Gerrel!”

“What are they doing?!” Tali cried. “We’re still on board!”

“Patrol Fleet,” Raan ordered, voice heavy with resignation, “Protect the Heavy Fleet. Give them a firing lane.”

The ship shuddered as the Heavy Fleet’s guns began to pound it. “All fleets!” Shepard radioed, “Hold fire! I repeat, hold fire!”

“They’re not responding,” Tali said.

“Dammit! Legion, where are the escape pods?” 

“Geth transmit intelligences via remote signal. We do not have need of escape pods.”

“Any other suggestions?” Castiel called out. “I can’t get everyone off this ship in time.”

“We will prepare a geth fighter from the port-side fighter bay,” Legion replied, running through a door out of the drive core chamber. “This way.”

The squad followed Legion’s path out the door as the dreadnought slowly came apart around them. Sam brought up the rear just as an explosion ripped through the side hallway, diving through the door leading into the fighter bay right before the hallway was vented into space. Legion stood on the upper level of the fighter bay, prepping a fighter for launch. “Shepard-Commander,” it said, “You must hurry. Structural integrity is critical.” Shepard and Tali vaulted across a collapsing section of the upper catwalk. Shepard turned to see Castiel, Sam, and Dean standing there.

“I’ve got them,” Castiel said. “Go!” The angel grabbed Sam and Dean and vanished with a deep blue flash, and Shepard leapt onto the undocking fighter, diving inside and sealing the entrance hatchway behind him.

“We’re in, Legion--go!”

“Shepard-Commander, I count only you and Creator Zorah in this fighter.”

“The other three are safe, Legion. We need to go now!”

“Acknowledged.” Legion launched the fighter, clearing the bay just as the dreadnought broke up in its wake.

“Joker,” Shepard hailed over his comms unit, “Tali and I are on a geth fighter headed toward you. Hold your fire.”

“Roger that,” Joker replied. “ Cas and the Winchesters just popped into the middle of the shuttle bay. Wiggle the wings or something, so I know which one you are.”

 

The three hunters took their breather helmets off and started walking toward the armour lockers at the back of the shuttle bay. “This whole thing,” Dean said, “has just gotten a lot more surreal if you ask me.” He keyed the release on the armoury’s lock, and started unhooking his weapons. “I mean...well, I don’t know what I mean.”

Sam shrugged and passed his shotgun and pistols to Dean so he could stow them. “I get it,” he sighed. “It’s a different time, a different place...For us this is all the stuff of science fiction, just like what we’re used to is the stuff of fantasy lit and fairytales for everyone here.” Before he could continue with his thought, some motion from the general direction of the shuttle caught his eye.

“What?” Dean looked over at Sam, who looked back at his brother before indicating Vega’s cubbyhole and Cortez’s procurement console, and then nodding toward the shuttle. Dean watched the shuttle for a few seconds, then raised his eyebrows when he saw it shake slightly. He and Sam looked at each other, then to Castiel.

“Where is Lieutenant Cortez?” Castiel asked innocently, looking up from his locker. “I wanted to ask him about some modifica--” The Winchesters grabbed him and hustled him toward the elevator. “Wait, what are--”

“Don’t ask, Cas,” Dean said, quickly punching the button for the crew deck. The doors closed behind the three of them, leaving the shuttle bay in silence.

A couple of minutes later, the door of the shuttle opened and Cortez hopped out with Vega right behind him. They tucked their shirts in and looked around to make sure there was nobody else in the shuttle bay, then shared a quick kiss before heading back to their workstations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me thus far--I'm taking lots of time between chapters at this point because I'm acting as my own beta (so I am doing a lot of self-crit and heavy editing to make sure that I don't break character and that continuity is tight).
> 
> If anyone wants to take on the task of being my beta, please shoot me a PM or hit me up on tumblr. My requirements are pretty simple: Ask lots of questions, be thorough, challenge me, and be willing to call me on my bullshit if you think I'm going off the rails.


	15. Interlude 1: Love and the Art of Shuttle Maintenance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is encouraged by Vega to help Cortez fix the shuttle. Cortez plays the role of teacher yet again, and he and James both talk to Dean about his unique relationship with Castiel.

“Damn!”

Dean looked up from the weapons bench, turning his head to the left to see the source of the comment. Steve stood there with an armoured panel from one of the shuttle’s thruster-skids at his feet, muttering curses as he took a look at the thruster’s innards before punching up a program on his Omni-Tool and shoving his hand into the thruster. A shower of sparks flew out, and Steve pulled his hand out and cursed again. 

Dean watched for several minutes before he was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. “Hey _vato_ , you gonna finish modding that shotgun, or are you too busy holding up the bench?” Dean turned to see James standing there. “You like to work on mechanical stuff, right? I bet Esteban would be happy to have a second set of hands fixing that shuttle.” He patted Dean on the shoulder and gently nodded his head in the general direction of the shuttle. “Go on man, I’ll take care of this.”

Dean looked down at his partially-modded shotgun, then over to Steve, then back at the shotgun. After a long moment, he shrugged. “Sure,” he said with a half-smile. “But don’t blame me if something breaks.” James patted him on the shoulder again and laughed, then took the shotgun off the table and secured it in a nearby armoury locker. Dean hopped over the procurement console and then leaned back against it to watch Steve work. After another minute or two, the pilot stepped back, looked at the open thruster, and sighed. “Problems?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “We took a couple of hard hits to this starboard thruster when we dusted off from that mission on Gellix, and I'd been a little slack getting this repair done. I didn’t think it was that bad….” He wrinkled his nose a bit, looked back at the thruster, and let out a deep exhale.

“...but at least it's not as bad as it could be.” Dean nodded, straightened up, and ambled over. “I know the feeling, man. Baby--my Impala--has been through a lot, too. She’s been crushed by a semi, driven through a big sign in front of a building, used as a battering ram on the front of a house…”

Steve laughed. “Maybe you should be talking to Mister Vega over there--he loves crashing things.” His deep blue eyes twinkled. “Mostly shuttles.”

“To save the day, _pendejo_!” was the gleeful rejoinder from the armoury.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I heard about his little stunt on Mars. I bet you had a lot of fun fixing this thing up after that.” He looked around, hands out from his sides a bit as if searching for something on his person. “Man, I feel like I need a beer in my hand if I’m going to be talking auto shop. Anyway,” he continued, “James suggested that you could teach me something about fixing a shuttle. I get the feeling he thinks I could maybe give you a hand from time to time.”

"Oh does he now?" Steve looked at the busted thruster, then back over his shoulder at James, who was casually leaning up against his cubbyhole’s weapons bench with his arms crossed and an impish smile on his face. “Now that you mention it, that does sound like a pretty good idea. Your Omni-Tool should have a basic welding and repair function--go ahead and load it up, and I’ll show you what we’re going to be working on.” He turned back toward the thruster. “These--” he pointed to two long thin assemblies with what looked like capacitors on each end. “--are inertial dampener coils. There are two in each thruster, and they’re what keep everyone from being thrown into a bulkhead when I do a high-gee maneuver in the shuttle.” 

Dean scratched his head. “So...it’s like having a lead weight in the back of a car in the wintertime? Keeps it on the road?”

Steve nodded. “Not exactly, but you’re pretty close. These coils here have been knocked out of alignment, and I need to get them fixed before we head down to Rannoch. Fortunately, the armour plating keeps bullets from getting through, at least to a point. So it’s a relatively simple fix, even though we’ll actually have to replace a couple of these coils. Here, you grab that side and I’ll grab this one--this whole assembly will come out in one piece.” Steve hit a release inside the thruster, and he and Dean eased the meter-long assembly out of its housing and gingerly set it down on the deck. Steve punched a button on his Omni-Tool to activate a drone that hovered over their heads and turned a broad spotlight on their work area before kneeling down to pull out a long thin object with what looked like capacitors toward each end. “This is one of the coils that we’ll have to replace,” he explained as he set it down on the deck.

“Do we need a pan or some newspaper or something for fluid leaks?” Dean got down on one knee, carefully picked up the coil, and looked at it--a hairline crack ran down about ninety percent of its length and glowed faintly bluish. “Wow, yeah--there’s no easy fix for that.”

“No sir--and there’s also no need to worry about fluid spills when you’re working on these parts, since there aren’t any hydraulics. The most we have to deal with is leaking hydrogen, which dissipates into the atmosphere, or trace amounts of eezo.” Steve took another coil out of the assembly. “This coil’s not quite as damaged as the one you’ve got in your hands, but we’re still going to have to replace it.”

Dean set his coil down. “I take it we can’t exactly head to a parts place and buy what we need.” Steve grinned and pointed to the Omni-Tool on the back of Dean’s hand.

“Actually, you’re wearing the parts place.” Steve punched in a few commands and scanned one of the broken coils, then traced back and slowly ran his hand over it. A brilliant white arc of energy shot out from the Omni-Tool to caress the coil. Steve carefully guided the tool over the cracked part, and Dean raised both eyebrows when he saw a brand new coil slowly take the place of the broken one.

“Damn…that’s impressive.”

Steve smiled and kept going. After several minutes, the rebuilt coil lay there on the deck, shiny and brand-new. “I think Engineer Adams told you something about fabrication when he gave you your Omni-Tool. The function needs materials to work. Usually, it’s whatever happens to be around, which in this case would be the Normandy itself. But for something like this, you can use the part to rebuild itself.”

“So...what? Your Omni-Tool chews up the busted piece and spits out a new one?” Dean raised an eyebrow and looked down at his Omni-Tool. Steve nodded, and Dean whistled appreciatively. “Damn--I coulda used this a few times when I was putting my Baby back together.”

Steve laughed softly. “Yeah, it’s pretty handy--the Omni-Tool breaks down the old part or whatever’s left of it, and reconstructs it on the fly. Go ahead, give it a shot.” Dean activated his Omni-Tool and held his hand over the remaining vector coil. “Take it nice and easy,” Steve said. “Your tool will flash at you if you’re going too fast or too slow.” Almost as soon as the words came out of Steve’s mouth, Dean’s Omni-Tool flashed five times in quick succession and the energy arc vanished.

“Oh crap...is it supposed to do that?” Dean looked at his Omni-Tool, then at Steve. “I didn’t break it, did I?”

“You’re fine,” the pilot replied. “You were just going a little too fast, that’s all. Go ahead and try it again. Not everyone gets it completely right the first time.” He stood. “And here’s our beer. Thank you, Mr. Vega.”

“Can’t fix something without having a cold one, right Esteban?” James grinned and handed over two frosty brown bottles. He and Steve shared a quick kiss. “How’s he doin’?”

Steve set one of the beers down next to Dean, then cracked the top on his. “Our Mister Winchester here is a really quick study.” 

“My dad was a mechanic,” Dean said with a bit of a smile on his face, still hunched over his work. “He taught me everything he knew about fixing a car--it’s come in handy a few times, when Sammy and I needed some cash and didn't feel like hustling pool. And I like it.” His tool flashed once, and he furrowed his brow for a moment. “And…done.” Dean sat back, picked up his beer and opened it to take a swig. “Y’know, there’s something that’s almost therapeutic about fixing a vehicle,” he remarked. “Taking something that was broken and fixing it up, instead of just destroying it.” The beer was slightly spicy, and left a lingering fruity sweetness on his palate. Dean raised an eyebrow and looked at the label on the bottle. “Asari?” he asked, trying to decipher the flowing iridescent script that arched across a verdant jungle scene.

“Salarian--some enterprising scientist decided he could make a better beer, I guess.”

Dean finished his beer off and set the empty bottle down. “This is actually some damn good beer, so I'd say that scientist did what he set out to do.”

Steve walked over and picked up the coil. “And that is some damn good work, Dean. Keep it up, and I may have to send you to Adams for some on-the-job training as a ship’s engineer.” He grinned and set the coil down on top of its housing, then leaned up against the rear port thruster and took another drink of his beer. “You and Sam are some pretty decent guys, by the way,” he said. “Cas too. I’m glad we didn’t have to shoot you or space you over Mars.” Dean’s cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. “So…” Steve raised an eyebrow. “You and Cas?”

“What?” Dean blinked a couple of times in confusion, then nodded his head up slightly when he saw the knowing half-smiles on his friends’ faces. “Ohhh, I get it. Umm, it’s, uh, I guess you could say it’s complicated.” Dean stared at the junction of thruster and shuttle. A sigh escaped his lips.

“Sorry,” Steve said. “I didn’t mean to be so forward.” Several seconds passed.

“What? Oh, no, it’s cool.” Dean half-sighed. “Just Cas and I have been through a lot--saved the world a couple times. I care about him a lot, I do--but I guess I just never really gave a lot of thought to...umm…well, that.”

“Kinda like me and Esteban?” James leaned against the port thruster and rested his head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve responded by planting a kiss on the top of James’ head and playfully ruffling his hair a bit. “Esteban and me, it was awkward for both of us at first. We’d known each other for a while, but it still felt kinda rebound-y, since he’d lost his husband to the Collectors almost a year before, but now…. What I’m trying to say is that some things take time. You’ll figure it out.” He straightened up and gave Cortez a kiss on the cheek. “And on that note, I’ma let you two put that thruster back together.” The big Marine drained his beer, tossed the bottle in a nearby waste disposal unit, and strode back across the cargo bay to his cubbyhole.

Dean looked down at his empty bottle for a moment, then got up and tossed it into the waste disposal unit. He started to turn back to the thruster assembly on the floor when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The hunter looked up to the windows overlooking the cargo bay, and saw Castiel looking down at him. Dean smiled up at Castiel, and turned back to Steve. “OK boss, let’s get this bad boy put back together.”

“You got it.” Steve walked Dean through replacing the coils, then the two of them hefted the assembly and eased it back into the housing on the thruster. “OK, there are two places on each side where we need to secure the connections so that this thruster will work again.” He pointed to two spots inside the assembly. “Here--your Omni-Tool can pop out a wrench for you to help tighten it, by the way--and here. I’ll get my side first, then you do yours.” 

Dean scratched his head for a moment, then punched in a command on his Omni-Tool. The tool beeped, and thirty seconds later a three-inch long wrench appeared and started falling. Dean caught the wrench and whistled. “Wow--is there anything that these things can’t do?”

“They can’t play matchmaker.” Steve winked and looked up at Castiel standing at the window with his hand on the glass. “Thanks for helping with the shuttle, Dean. There’s not really anything else I need help with down here, so if you want to go do something else…”

Dean smiled. “Thanks for the shuttle shop. I’ll, uh, leave you and Big Sexy alone. See what kind of trouble I can get into--maybe Garrus and I can talk guns or something.” He winked and casually strolled to the elevator, touched the panel to summon it, and waited. He leaned against the wall next to the elevator, holding himself up with one arm. “Cas,” he whispered under his breath, “You’ve always been there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it. You’ve bled for me, saved me and Sammy I don’t know how many times, even died for me. I just want you to know that I...I’m grateful, more than you know.” He heard rustling wings and felt a hand rest gently on his shoulder. “But I don’t know how I feel right now,” he said quietly, looking down at the floor, “to be honest with you. I need to figure it out, to be a hundred percent sure, because after everything we’ve been through the last thing I want is to hurt you.”

“Dean, I…”

“I know, Cas.” Dean looked back over his shoulder and smiled slightly. “I know.” The elevator door opened, and Dean got on. Castiel's hand fell, and he took a step back and let the doors close. He looked up at the camera in the corner, shrugged, and teleported out of the shuttle bay.

On the bridge, EDI looked over at Joker for a moment and silently registered Castiel's arrival in the starboard observation lounge. Joker looked back at her, smiled, and reached across the gap between her seat and his. EDI reached back to take his hand and returned the smile, mentally noting another question to ask Shepard the next time she talked to him.


	16. Kick Out The Jams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Free Will goes after the geth jamming towers on Rannoch. Castiel's true nature is revealed (more or less) by a very unlikely person. Kaidan hefts his helmet again, and Cas thinks he's Chow Yun-Fat.

“Your unilateral strike endangered us all--I should have you charged with treason!” Admiral Raan angrily jabbed Admiral Gerrel in the chest with a finger.

Gerrel stood back, shifting his weight to one leg, and crossed his arms. “I was within my authority as Admiral of the Heavy Fleet,” he said.

“And what of Commander Shepard, and Tali’Zorah?!”

“The mission parameters changed,” Gerrel responded defiantly. He looked over at Shepard, who walked past Sam on his way out of the comms room. “Shepard’s a soldier,” he continued as Shepard came down the steps to the holoprojector. “I’m sure he understands, don’t you Commander?” Sam saw the briefest crackle of static dance across Shepard’s shoulders, and quickly moved to station himself near the War Room’s exit. “If you could take back Earth with a little friendly fire,” Gerrel asserted, “you’d do it in--”

“I understand that you were reckless, Admiral,” Shepard barked. He leaned forward to get in Gerrel’s face, blue-green eyes alight with barely-contained anger. The scar on his jawline burned bright red and his lips were curled into an angry snarl. “I understand that you unnecessarily endangered the entire Migrant Fleet when they should have been evacuated, and that you did it for your own selfish reasons.” He balled his hands into fists, squeezing until his knuckles cracked. “This is exactly the sort of short-sighted bloodthirsty behaviour that I was afraid of,” Shepard continued. 

Admiral Gerrel began to sputter a response, but Shepard cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand as he stepped back. “You’re damned lucky that I need your ships, Admiral. In fact, I think it would be a good idea for you to go back to them.” The admiral snorted and stormed out of the War Room, nearly bowling over Dean as he came through the entryway. Shepard muttered “bosh’tet” at Gerrel’s retreating form, then took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a silent ten-count. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Sam quickly shook his head and rubbed the right side of his jaw. Dean looked over at Shepard and saw the angry red line start to fade.

“I take it that Gerrel guy got into it with…?” Dean whispered to his brother. Sam nodded slowly. “Gotcha.”

“I apologize, Commander,” Admiral Raan said. “It was only a few weeks ago that we thought we would be able to finally take back the Homeworld--Han’Gerrel...well, you’ve met him before. You know how he can be.”

Before Shepard could reply, Sam cut in. “I’m sorry to butt in, but Admiral,” he asked as all eyes turned to face him, “you said that Admiral Zaal’Koris crashed on Rannoch? Which fleet is he in charge of?” He looked at Shepard for a moment and braced himself for the Commander to turn his guns on him, but Shepard simply nodded in acknowledgement. Sam nodded back.

“He is the Admiral of the Civilian Fleet,” Raan explained. “He sacrificed his flagship to destroy the geth’s planetary defence cannon, and without him, the captains of the Civilian Fleet are threatening to flee in an attempt to save themselves. Without the Civilian Fleet, we have no liveships. Without the liveships...”

“Your people starve.” Shepard leaned forward, both hands on the edge of the holoprojector, and let out an exasperated sigh. “Our current priority, then, is to find the Admiral and get him back to his fleet.”

The door opened, and Legion walked into the War Room with Castiel right behind him. “Shepard-Commander,” the geth declared, “we are prepared to offer assistance.”

Admirals Raan and Xen reached for their sidearms. “What the hell is this?!” Shepard quickly moved to position himself in front of the Admirals. and put his hands up.

“Wait, wait, everybody please calm down! This is Legion. He helped me in my fight against the Collectors. We rescued him from the dreadnought--the Reapers were using him as a signal-booster.”

“It,” Tali interjected. “We rescued it.”

“What a fascinating prototype,” Admiral Xen purred, stepping forward to closely inspect the Geth. “With some study, I may be able to unlock its secrets.”

“Absolutely not,” Shepard said firmly. “Legion helped me stop the Collectors.”

“So did your pistol,” Xen sniffed dismissively. “Shall I--”

Shepard leaned in and hissed, “I don’t think you want to continue this line of thought, Admiral.”

Xen spun around. “But the scientific benefits...” she protested, words dying in her throat when she saw the angry look on Shepard’s face.

“Are off the table,” Shepard snapped. His brow furrowed and his scar flared. “Legion is my friend, not some test subject to be dissected. It’s also our best source of information on the Geth.”

Admiral Raan took a step forward. “What can you tell us about the Geth?” she asked cautiously, “Will they remain disorganized, now that the Reaper signal has been neutralized?”

“This is a false assumption,” Legion explained, punching up a holographic image of Rannoch. “Long-range transmission has been disabled, but the Old Machines have placed a base on Rannoch to provide short-range transmission of the Old Machine signal.” It zoomed in the view on the planet’s equatorial zone. “It is only a matter of time before short-range transmission resumes and hostile Geth regroup.”

“Keelah!” Raan’s eyes grew wide.

“So if we take out the base,” Dean queried from his perch by the door, “then the signal stops for good, and the geth stop being fancy marionettes?”

“Yes. The base’s location is unknown to us,” Legion answered, looking over at Dean. “But we have the location of a server that houses hostile Geth programs.” The view shifted slightly, to show a small Geth base. “Accessing this server will facilitate the disabling of fighter squadrons that this base controls before they can attack Creator liveships.”

“Then that’s where we go next,” Shepard said. “Legion, I need you to get started finding that base.” The geth nodded and walked over to a panel, where it started to enter commands.

“How about this?” Dean asked. He jogged down the steps to the holoprojector and punched a couple of keys. “Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone--Sam, Cas, and I go after the jamming towers that are keeping us from finding the missing Admiral,” he highlighted one location in blue, and pointed to it. “And you, Legion, and whoever else go blow up that Geth server?” The server’s location lit up in red. “Then we regroup, and go take out the big base together.”

“That does make strategic sense,” Castiel added. “Two smaller groups would be able to progress more rapidly than a large group. Once we find the Admiral, I can immediately bring him here.” Legion raised one of its eyeflaps. “The explanation is a little involved,” the angel said, fidgeting with one of the buttons on his trenchcoat. “But yes, I can quickly get him to safety once we find him.” 

“I want to help bring this fight to a quick end,” Shepard said. “If nothing else, I owe it to Tali...and to Legion.” He ran a hand over his thick black hair and let out a short sigh. “Dean, you, Sam and Cas head down to the armory to get suited up--I’ll meet you there with Kaidan, Tali, and Legion. Once that jamming tower is out of commission, your job is to find Admiral Zaal’Koris and get him to safety. If you find any survivors among his crew, do what you can to help them.” He pursed his lips and frowned slightly. “I don’t like it, but you may wind up having to sacrifice them to save the Admiral.”

“We’ll do our best to make sure it doesn’t come to that,” Dean interjected. “Sammy, Cas--we’ve got work to do.” He nodded his head back toward the door to the War Room, then turned and walked out with Sam and Castiel right behind him. “And hopefully,” he muttered, “James and Steve won’t be canoodling in the shuttle when we get to the armoury.”

 

Kaidan stepped off the elevator and headed for the armoury. He took his bright blue helmet out of his locker, and hefted it in both hands for a moment. “Relax,” the biotic quipped when he saw Castiel flinch, “I won’t bash you with it.” He looked over at the angel and winked, then put the helmet back.

“Thanks. I’d rather not have to deal with another concussion.” Castiel took his armour from his locker a piece at a time, dropping it on the deck. 

“So...” Kaidan began.

“Yes,” Castiel sighed, “I’m an angel.”

Kaidan shook his head and let out a slight chuckle. “If you say so--but I was going to ask about your biotics some more. We didn’t have much of a chance to talk about them, during our training session the other day.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Castiel scratched his forehead for a moment. “There’s not a lot to explain,” he said. He took off his coat and hung it on a hook that Cortez had installed for him near the lockers. “At least, not without presenting it in the form of several complex differential equations and using a visual aid or two.” He reached for his under-suit and hung it over his locker, then started undoing his shirt. “That was a joke, by the way.”

Kaidan chuckled. “Heh, I figured.” He removed his own shirt and knelt down to undo his boots. “I’m just trying to better understand how things work for you, as opposed to other biotics like me or Shepard.”

“According to Doctor Chakwas,” Castiel replied, “My nerves are fully impregnated with eezo, instead of having nodes scattered through my central nervous system.” He shrugged out of his shirt. “It’s given me something close to what Dean and Sam like to call “angel mojo”. The only difference is that I’m unable to heal injuries. And I apparently need to eat a lot more than other biotics.”

Kaidan chuckled. “Yeah, I saw the supply reports.” He slipped off his boots and stowed them, then dropped his trousers and stepped out of them. “I’m guessing it’s because you’re burning through more calories than me, Shepard, and Liara put together.”

“Increased neural activity requires increased intake--electrolytes mostly--otherwise the body consumes itself.” Castiel put his shirt in his locker, and slipped his boots off. “I’ve seen it happen slowly, during famines. A starving biotic would experience the same thing at a much more rapid pace, which I’m sure you know.” He shuddered briefly, then took his pants off and started to put on his undersuit. “It’s not a very pleasant thought.”

Kaidan nodded. “Pretty much.” He got out his undersuit and started to slide it on. “So if you don’t mind my asking--that biotic field you have, the one that looks like wings…”

“Can I fly?” Castiel asked. Kaidan nodded, and Castiel nodded in response, “Yes, I can fly if I absolutely have to. I prefer teleporting, though, from one location to another. It’s more energy-efficient, and less exhausting.” Castiel grunted slightly, and Kaidan looked up to see him struggling with a shoulder closure on his own undersuit.

Kaidan reached over, undersuit halfway on, and started fiddling with the closure. He saw a tiny tubule from the undersuit’s environmental system that had come loose and gotten snagged. He felt something wet on his fingertips, and pursed his lips when he caught a whiff of something faintly menthol.

“A piece of advice? It’s a good idea to go over your gear after every mission, to make sure that things are good for next time.” Kaidan looked more closely at the closure. “Here--pop these two fasteners on your collar.” Castiel undid two torso closures, and Kaidan peeled the undersuit back from Castiel’s right shoulder. “Have you been feeling a teensy bit high the last couple missions?” Castiel nodded, and Kaidan let out a half-chuckle. “I’m not surprised--you’ve got a small leak in your medi-gel delivery system.” He activated his Omni-Tool and held it over the shoulder piece while using his other hand to hold the errant tubule in place. A faint smell of ozone and menthol combined with partially melted monofilament reached Castiel’s nostrils, making him scrunch up his nose. “And...there.” Kaidan deactivated his Omni-Tool and blew on the repair for a couple of seconds, then helped Castiel refasten it. “Should be OK now.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Kaidan smiled and finished putting on his undersuit. “You know what? Let me finish getting suited up, and I’ll check over the rest of your gear. Just to be on the safe side.”

 

Dean looked up at Legion and raised an eyebrow. “OK, so let me see if I understand this,” Dean said, eyes narrowing slightly. “There are a thousand of you guys in one unit?”

Legion nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you all have names?” Dean scratched his head and blinked a couple of times. “Like you can play poker with yourself or something?”

Legion raised an eyeflap. “You misunderstand,” it stated matter-of-factly. “Geth are software--each has a specific purpose, and alone can only function within specific parameters. Together we function as a cohesive unit and provide cognitive direction to this platform.”

“So, it’s kind of like fuzzy logic?” Sam asked. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and looked up at Legion. “Like being able to deviate from rigidly-defined programming and form new conclusions, kinda like EDI is able to do?”

“Correct. Each program in this platform forms part of an internal consensus that is analogous to neurons in an organic brain that drive platform functions and decision-making processes.” Legion eyes blinked for a moment. “Dean-Winchester, we have a query.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Uhh...okay?”

“We tried to determine the nature of Castiel when he engaged us in conversation, outside the War Room. Visual scans suggest that he is human, but we detected dark energy readings far exceeding that of normal biotics. A further scan indicated that he is not any known species.” The geth’s eyeflaps bobbled. “We judged that you may be able to provide us with additional data.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide. “Wait--you mean to tell me that you got to see what Cas has on under his kilt?”

Legion’s eyes blinked. “Query unclear. Please rephrase.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other for a moment, then back at the geth. “What my brother’s asking,” Sam said, “is “What does Cas look like under his meatsuit?””

“Processing.” Legion stood there for a couple of minutes, then activated its Omni-Tool to bring up a hologram of a Reaper Destroyer. “This is the Reaper that was on Tuchanka.” Legion punched a button, and the image zoomed out to show the outline of an enormous bipedal figure, double the size of the Reaper. The figure had three pairs of wings and four heads, each looking in one of the cardinal directions. One face was human. The other three were a lion, an eagle, and a bull. “Energy scans indicate that this is Castiel’s true appearance, but we detected no active cloak. Additionally, we have no data regarding technology that would enable him to walk unimpeded in small spaces such as Normandy. We are also unable to identify his species.”

Sam blinked a few times, then opened and closed his mouth in surprise. Dean whistled and raised both eyebrows. “Damn, he wasn’t kidding when he said he was the size of the Chrysler Building.” The doors to the shuttle opened, and Castiel and Kaidan boarded with Shepard, Tali, and Cortez. Legion turned, still projecting the hologram. Kaidan and Shepard looked at the hologram, Tali gasped, and Castiel nervously cleared his throat. Cortez looked from the hologram to Castiel and back to the hologram, then quickly ducked into the cockpit to start the shuttle.

“It’s my, uh, true form,” Castiel explained quietly. A very tense silence fell over the group.

“So…” Shepard said slowly. “That’s--”

“An angel?” Tali asked.

“An angel,” Kaidan said with awe.

Castiel nodded. “An angel.”

“It’s only a model,” Dean deadpanned from his jumpseat. Sam covered his face with his palm and groaned softly at the bad joke. Dean looked at him and mouthed “What?”

“Angel,” Legion stated, eyeflaps bobbling. “Celestial entity depicted in human art and literature. Warrior, protector, messenger.” It shut off the projection and raised an eyeflap. “Herald of the Christian Apocalypse.”

“Err, yes.” Castiel fidgeted with a pocket on his armour and bit his lip as an uncomfortable silence settled over the shuttle again. The tops of his ears started to turn red as everyone looked at him. “Though that last part is more the job of an elder brother of mine. But yes.”

“Okay, so wait--if you really are an angel,” Kaidan asked, stepping forward and steadying himself on a handhold, “Then why do you look like one of us? Why not just show up as you really are and kick the Reapers’ asses, if you’re bigger than they are? Well, bigger than most of them anyway.”

“It’s not that simple,” Castiel responded.

Shepard quirked his head to one side. “I would think that seeing a warrior of God charging across the battlefield could be a pretty powerful psychological weapon--at least when fighting indoctrinated organics.”

“Yeah,” Kaidan added, “especially with those biotic wings of yours. I know they impressed the hell out of the Council.”

“I understand the need for “shock and awe”,” Castiel explained, using airquotes, “But it’s not a good idea.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Some very rare, very special individuals can perceive my true form without harm,” he put a hand on Legion’s shoulder for a moment to punctuate his point, “but all others either go blind or die outright.”

“Grissom Academy,” Dean said. Castiel looked over at him and nodded. Dean looked at Kaidan. “Cas smote the hell out of a Cerberus cruiser and its crew. It was kinda ugly--be glad you weren’t there to see it.”

Castiel nodded. “When an angel wants or needs to walk among mortals,” he continued, “we must take a vessel. This body I have is an advertising salesman from Illinois who consented to be my vessel.”

“So Jimmy’s still around,” Sam asked, “even after everything you’ve been through?”

“Yes, he is.” Castiel put a hand over his heart for a moment. “All those times that I was resurrected by God, so was he.” He looked at Tali, Shepard, Legion, and Kaidan. “Long story.” He look back at Sam and Dean. “Jimmy helped me, when I was having my issues a few weeks ago.” 

Tali blinked a couple of times. “Okay, so wait. There are two of you in one body? How does that even work? Do you hear voices? Can this other person talk to you?”

Castiel scratched an itch on the top of his head for a moment. “Every sentient being has a soul,” He explained. “When an angel takes a vessel, the vessel’s soul remains and serves as a renewable power source. Jimmy contains and augments the eezo in my nervous system, like a regulator of sorts. He’s also awake, insofar as he’s able to see what goes on, even though I have control of the body. You could say that he’s, uh...watching from his living room. He could talk to me, I suppose, though he hasn’t had much reason to lately.” The angel sighed. “Even so--I know what all of your questions are getting at. I’m strong, but I am not invincible.”

“How do you mean?” Kaidan asked.

“Reapers,” he explained. “I need to be more guarded than most, against indoctrination--I discovered this when I was fighting one on Elysium.”

“Wait,” Shepard said. “You could tell that a Reaper was trying to indoctrinate you?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes. They use certain electromagnetic frequencies to influence organic minds and--”

“That’s common knowledge,” Tali interjected. “Well, at least among us.”

“I can detect those fields, and guard against them. But there are also certain sonic and subsonic frequencies that they employ as carrier waves, to trigger an organic’s innate fear response. Those frequencies mimic what Dean, Sam, and I refer to as “Angel Radio”.” He sighed deeply. “Angels, we’re…designed to obey, much like the geth were designed by the quarians to be servants. We can make our own decisions, break away from our commanders...fall, basically. But our primary instruction is and has always been to obey.”

Dean’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, so you’re saying that they can talk to you? And you didn’t tell us?” 

Castiel grimaced. “I believe that it was unintentional on the part of the Reaper. But when it “spoke”, I heard what sounded like a distant order to obey. I was able to tune it out, but it was still there and still...unpleasant.” He rubbed his temples for a moment before continuing. “I suspect that since I am considerably more “in tune” with myself now, I could resist it much more easily, though like any other organic being I would fall under its sway after prolonged exposure--it’s not something I care to test, however.” Castiel took a deep breath before continuing. “It also brings up a frightening prospect. If even one Reaper manages to find its way to our world and starts indoctrinating angels, it would make the Apocalypse, Heaven’s civil war, and the Leviathans pale in compari--”

“They won’t last long enough to figure it out.” Shepard punctuated his statement with an emphatic slash of his open palm. “I’ll make damn sure of that.”

Suddenly, the shuttle lurched hard to port, tossing Shepard and Castiel into a bulkhead. Legion quickly grabbed a handlebar with one hand and gingerly caught Tali around the waist with the other before she crumpled face-first into Shepard’s back as the inertial dampeners quickly engaged. Dean and Sam lurched in their seats, and Kaidan staggered.

“Sorry about that,” Cortez called out, “There are some AA guns that need to be taken out before we can hit the tower. I’ll have to set your team down here on this cliff, Dean.”

Shepard turned to his irregulars. “OK you three--go take out those guns. I’ll have Cortez drop us off near the server and wait for your signal to come take out the tower, which should help you find Admiral Koris.” he smiled. “You came up with a damn good plan, Dean.”

“Yeah, sometimes I manage to come up with something smart,” Dean replied with a half-smile. He turned to Sam and Castiel. “Let’s boogie.” The shuttle doors opened, and the three of them jumped out onto the first AA gun position. The gun and its companion were mounted on platforms that had been cut out of the rock. Rails and half-walls were laid out in a simple quadrant-grid manner. The tower itself rose up from a small butte that separated the two platforms. A path to their secondary objective snaked off into the hills. Dean rushed forward to an outcropping of rock and peeked over the top as the shuttle peeled away. Several geth troopers were patrolling the area around the AA guns, giving no indication that they had registered the shuttle’s dropping off three passengers. “OK,” he whispered, “I see two of those guys with the rocket launchers, and a turret. Cas, can you za--” his statement was cut off when a geth rocket whizzed right over his head, followed by heavy-caliber rounds from the turret. “Crap!” Dean ducked lower, and Castiel popped up to fling two troopers over the cliffside with a pair of biotic projectiles.

“Stay in cover, I’m going to grab the turret,” he said before vanishing. Before Dean or Sam could protest, a geth trooper who had been at the turret suddenly went flying back into the side of the butte. Castiel took the trooper’s place, opening up to start cutting down geth ground forces as quickly as they could drop in. The brothers looked at each other and scrambled forward to positions behind a pair of divider walls. Castiel stopped firing from the turret for a moment to let it vent heat, and Dean popped up to provide covering fire with his assault rifle.

“Dean,” Sam called out, “The gun’s over there--cover me, I’ll go take it down while you and Cas keep the geth busy.” Dean reached down and clapped Sam on the shoulder twice, and Sam scooted over to the AA cannon’s control panel. He activated a bypass program on his Omni-Tool and let it run just in time for a stray shot to whiz by his right ear, making him hunker down in front of the panel. “Keep ‘em off me please!”

“Sorry!” Dean yelled back as he grabbed a hunter from over a half-wall. He quickly severed the platform’s head unit with his Omni-Blade and lobbed the sparking head in the general direction of an oncoming pyro-trooper, which distracted it just long enough for Dean to fire off a shotgun blast that caused the unit’s flamethrower tanks to explode. The cannon stopped firing, and Sam hustled back over to Dean’s position. “Got it?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded. “Got it. Almost got nailed by shrapnel from that exploding geth, though.” Dean gave an apologetic half-shrug and started to say something when he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Hostile geth incoming from the right flank!” Castiel called. He swung the turret around to mow down a handful of geth that came out of a door that opened up nearby, then dismounted and unhooked his pistols. “Come on,” he said, waving Sam and Dean toward the door. “We can get to the other cannon through that corridor.” The trio made their way through the corridor, a faint salt breeze tickling their nostrils. Dean nodded to Sam and ducked behind a divider wall, where he unhooked his sniper rifle and popped up to draw a bead on an uncloaked hunter. Sam ducked behind another divider and started to creep toward the second AA cannon. Castiel vanished, and Dean stroked the trigger on his rifle. The heavy armour-piercing round punched through the hunter’s head, dropping the geth platform. Castiel popped up in front of the other geth and threw up a biotic barrier. The platforms moved in and opened fire.

Dean began picking off geth as quickly as he could starting with hunters and pyros, occasionally checking on Sam’s progress. The ground shook as two Primes impacted right next to Castiel, who pushed his barrier outward to send the remaining troopers sailing off the platform and down to the rocky shore below. He quickly turned toward the Primes and vanished as they stood and raised their shields, reappearing behind them to grab their attention with several shots from his heavy pistols. The shots dropped the Primes’ shields, and Dean fired an AP round that hit one of the Primes dead-center in the back, causing it to shudder and explode. The collateral damage combined with another double-shot from Castiel’s pistols administered the same fate to the second Prime. Sam quickly finished shutting down the second cannon and wiped some sweat from his grimy forehead with the back of his hand. “Second cannon’s down. We should get out of here before more geth drop in.” He coughed slightly. “Damn, for being near water this is still a pretty dusty place.”

The hunters walked up the trail, Castiel taking point and Dean bringing up the rear. Toward the top of the trail, Castiel put up a hand. “Wait.” He reached down and picked up a fist-sized stone, then hurled it with biotics-augmented force at a spot on the ground about fifteen feet away. A spray of dirt, fire, and shrapnel flew into the air. “The geth seem to have mined the area,” he said. “We should, of course, be careful.” 

At the apex of the trail, the three of them saw a glint of light on metal and ducked behind some rocks. Two troopers stood watch over a burning escape pod and the bodies of its former occupants. A pyro-trooper and a rocket trooper marched toward their position. Castiel vanished, then popped into view again when the pyro and rocketeer were right next to him. He set off a biotic shockwave that sent them flying toward the Winchesters. Sam popped up and let fly with a heavy overload that caused the pyro’s tanks to explode, raining fire on the trail in front of them and detonating another mine. Dean switched to his shotgun and immediately unloaded a full clip into the incoming face of the rocket trooper. The remaining geth lay broken and sparking against the rocks. The brothers made their way down the narrow defile to Castiel’s position, where Dean immediately checked one of the Quarians. “No signs of a firefight on these people--looks like they all died in the crash.”

“Or just after,” Sam said. He pointed. “See the trails of blood coming out of this wrecked escape pod?” He gingerly rolled a nearby quarian female onto her back. “Yeah--looks like this poor woman got cut open when she tried to get out, then bled out right here.” He grimaced. “Y’know, I think I preferred it when it was all demons and monsters. They’re at least easier to deal with than stuff like this.” Sam stood and looked up the trail. “We’ve got another anti-aircraft installation to take down--should we bury these folks before we head on?” 

“No time,” Dean replied sadly. He knelt next to one of the bodies and stared at it for a long moment. “We gotta get this taken care of quick,” he finally said, “before more people die.” He stood, and the brothers marched on down the trail.

Around another bend, they came across an injured Quarian sitting against a rock. Dean immediately got down on one knee and queued up an application of Medi-Gel. “Sit tight,” he said, “we’ve got you.”

“You...you got our distress signal?” the Quarian’s breaths were ragged and shallow.

“No,” Sam said, kneeling next to him. “There’s a jamming tower that we’re trying to take out. It’s blocking all transmissions. Hold still, let me see what I can do for you.” Purplish-blue blood seeped out of a rupture in the man’s suit. Sam started to repair the rupture, but the injured quarian weakly pushed at his hand.

“Save it. I’ve...lost too much blood.”

Sam then queued up a low-grade dose of dextro-safe medi-gel on his Omni-Tool. “Let me at least kill some of the pain.” He applied the Medi-Gel, and saw the Quarian’s body immediately relax as the painkillers in the gel worked their way into his system. “What’s your name?”

The quarian coughed slightly. “Dorn’Hazt...I’m a maintenance worker.” 

“I’m Sam--this is my brother, Dean. We’re here to help.”

Dorn’Hazt nodded slightly. “Find the Admiral. My son...tell Jona his father made it home….” His head lolled to the side, and he let out one last sighing breath. Sam and Dean lowered their heads for a moment before slowly standing. 

Dean clenched and unclenched his fists, looked up the trail, and set his jaw. “Let’s get those guns taken out so we can grab the Admiral,” he said quietly, looking back at Sam. “Keep an eye out for any more survivors. If we’re lucky, we’ll find some people we can save.” Dean looked around for a few seconds. “Wait--where’s Cas?”

The sounds of explosions and biotic detonations in the distance provided his answer. “Sonofabitch…” Dean hustled up the trail and around another corner to see a couple of troopers being flung backwards to impact with a Prime. Dean got out his pistol and fired off two shots that triggered the Prime’s self-destruct sequence, then trotted over to the AA gun’s platform with Sam to check on Castiel, who was bent over and panting. “You okay?” Dean opened one of his utility pockets and got out a bottle of energy drink, which he cracked open and gave to Castiel. “Here.”

Castiel took the drink and quickly drained it. “Thanks.” He sat down next to the gun’s control panel. “My apologies--I figured the sooner we get this taken care of, the more people we can save.” He closed his eyes and deeply inhaled the faintly salty air tinged with the pungent aromas coming from the native plant life. “Legion and I had a brief conversation, just outside the War Room--that’s probably when he scanned me. He said that the geth decided to take care of this world, after what they call the Morning War. Preserve it, safeguard it in the event that the Quarians would make peace with them.” Castiel sighed. “He reminded me of…”

“Us?” Dean removed one of his gauntlets, then reached up to wipe away a tear from Castiel’s face. “Trying to help, wanting to make things better…?” Castiel nodded, and Dean smiled a bit before leaning in to give him a kiss on his grimy forehead. “That’s all we can do, Cas. Try to help whoever we can.” He looked over at his brother. “Got that tower taken out?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “I’ll go ahead and signal the shuttle.” He backed up and got out a flare gun, which he fired into the air. The sound of an incoming craft made the three of them turn and look out over the water to see the shuttle coming from around a rock formation to open fire on the tower. The tower collapsed into the bay, and Steve set the shuttle down nearby. 

“Hello?” A voice crackled over their comms. “This is Admiral Zaal’Koris--is anyone there?”

“Admiral,” Dean responded, “This is Dean Winchester of the Normandy--give us your location, I’ve got somebody who can come get you.” He patted Sam on the shoulder and pointed toward the shuttle. Sam gave Dean a thumbs-up and trotted over to the landing zone. Castiel stood and looked at Dean expectantly.

“My crew,” the admiral replied. “They’re going to be overrun! I’m surrounded--leave me, rescue my crew, they’re non-combatants!”

“Dammit!” Dean opened his comms again. “Admiral,” he snapped, “don’t abandon your Fleet--your people don’t need a martyr, they’ve got enough of those already. What they need is their Admiral. Gimme your location--I’ll have somebody come get you, and my brother and I will go get your crew!”

“But you can’t--”

“We can,” Dean shot back defiantly.

After a pregnant pause, Dean heard a sigh of resignation. “Ancestors forgive me--uploading coordinates.” Dean and Castiel’s Omni-Tools pinged, and Dean clapped Castiel on the shoulder.

“Go get him, Cas.” Castiel nodded and vanished, and Dean scurried onto the shuttle. “Steve, I got some coordinates for you.”

“Already got ‘em,” Steve replied as he hit the throttle to zoom away from the ruins of the jamming tower. “Let’s go rescue some people.”

 

Admiral Koris fired off a shot at a hostile geth trooper. He dropped down behind a rock formation, when he heard the flutter of wings and felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hang on,” a slightly gravelly voice said, right before the Admiral’s world suddenly changed from the open skies of Rannoch to the Normandy’s mess with a crackle of static and a muffled *pop*. He spun around and reflexively stuck his gun in Castiel’s face, and took a step back.

“It’s okay Admiral,” Castiel said calmly, hands up as his biotic aura faded. “You’re safe. I brought you back to the Normandy.” The Admiral slowly lowered his weapon, and Castiel let out a relieved half-sigh. “I apologise for the abrupt transition, but there’s no gentle way for me to teleport somebody to safety--and I’m unfamiliar with the layout of any of your ships...I didn’t want to risk accidentally landing us in the middle of a reactor or waste processor, so I brought you here.”

“Cas,” Joker paged with feigned indignation, “You mind warning me next time you’re going to just bamf in like that? EDI’s feeling pretty violated.” Castiel snorted a half-chuckle. “Anyway,” the Normandy’s pilot continued, “Shepard just checked in. Sam and Dean got your surviving crew out in one piece, Admiral--they’ll come pick you up and take you back to the Fleet. ETA about two minutes.”

Castiel nodded and vanished, leaving a very surprised Admiral Zaal’Koris standing in the middle of the mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the huge-ass delay in getting this out. I did a crapton of editing to try to make this and the following chapter cogent (especially the following chapter). Thank you all for your patience. :)


	17. Peace Through Verbal Firepower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Quarian-Geth conflict finally comes to an end. Team Free Will lays a trap, and Shepard steals a kiss in the middle of a firefight.

_Dean,_

_I took the liberty of scouting around the Geth base--have Steve drop you and Sam at these coordinates._

_\--Cas_

“Oh son of a…” Dean looked at the text message on his Omni-Tool and rolled his eyes. He slumped back against the rear bulkhead of the shuttle and looked up at the ceiling.

“What’s up?” Shepard asked. Dean looked down and saw everyone staring at him. Legion raised an eyeflap slightly.

“Cas--he wants us to split up again.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“I dunno.”

Shepard pursed his lips and engaged his comms. “Cas, this is Shepard--you want to tell me why you want to split up again?”

“I’m setting a trap,” Castiel replied. “But I need Sam and Dean to help me with it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “What kind of trap?” he asked slowly.

“We’re about to find out,” Cortez said from the cockpit. He popped open the shuttle’s exit hatch to show Castiel using his Omni-Tool to burn an enormous design into a wide plateau near the geth base.

The Winchesters took one look at the nascent design of one square laid over another to form an eight-point star, and Dean smacked his dust-streaked face with his palm. Sam’s eyes widened slightly and he raised his eyebrows. “Oh, that’s so not good….”

“What kind of trap is that supposed to be?” Kaidan asked, pointing at the design.

Dean and Sam both looked at him and shook their heads. “Reaper,” they said in unison. Dean grimaced and rubbed his forehead, sighed, then engaged his comms. “Okay Cas, where'd you find it?”

“Somewhere near the base,” came the reply. Castiel paused his work, then looked up at the shuttle, squinting into the late-afternoon sun. “I don’t know exactly where--I retreated as soon as I could feel its presence. But if we can find the Reaper and lure it here, there’s a good chance that the Normandy can bombard it into scrap with help from the Quarians. The work would go much faster if you and Sam were able to help, by the way.”

Shepard rubbed his chin for a moment. He took a deep breath and let it out. “OK--Kaidan, Tali, and I can take the base with Legion’s help while you find the Reaper and keep it busy.” He looked at Dean. “I trust you…”

Dean looked back at Shepard, jaw firmly set. “Hopefully it won’t come to that,” he said quietly. He hopped out of the shuttle as it hovered a few feet off the ground, Sam right behind him. When the shuttle took off, Dean looked at Castiel and sighed. He and Sam then looked at each other, activated their Omni-Tools, and got to work helping Castiel draw the trap.

 

“Stannis,” Kaidan said, “Do you really think it’s a good idea to have Cas anywhere near a Reaper? I mean, if he can be indoctrinated…”

“Anyone can be indoctrinated,” Tali pointed out, “given enough time in close proximity to a Reaper.”

“Shepard-Commander,” Legion broke in, “We will exit ahead of you and infiltrate the base. We can bypass security and procure an escape vehicle.”

“You can do that?” Shepard asked. He tilted his head to one side slightly. “How will you manage to avoid detection?”

“This unit still carries...the Old Machine upgrade code.” It looked down at the deck for a moment. “We did not intend to cause offense.”

“It’s okay Legion,” Shepard replied, “You know your limits. I’m just concerned that you didn’t tell me sooner.”

“We judged that you would be accepting--however, we were unsure of the reaction of those around you.” The geth’s eyeflaps bobbled.

Shepard blinked. “You were ashamed?”

“Shame is a cognitive response to societal judgement,” Legion said, “It should not apply here.”

Shepard sighed and rubbed his forehead for a moment. “Legion, I--we need to trust each other if we’re going to free your people and make peace.”

“Agreed, though empirical evidence suggests that not everyone shares your consensus,” Legion pointed out of the open shuttle. “We will exit here.” It dropped out, and Shepard watched his friend hit the dirt and raise a huge dust-cloud before turning back to Kaidan and Tali.

“Let’s get ready to roll,” he said quietly. The shuttle set down on a bluff near the geth base, and the three of them hopped out. Tali stood, looking out on the late afternoon scene.

“I can hardly believe it, Stannis.” She looked at Shepard. “I’m standing on the Homeworld...my world. You know the phrase, “Keelah se’lai”? It roughly translates to “by the homeworld I hope to see some day.”” Tali sighed. “We’ve become so used to carrying our homes with us that settling down again always seemed like nothing but a dream.” She scanned the horizon and made a box with her thumbs and index fingers to frame a stream running through some scrubby rocks. “There,” she said proudly, “I just claimed the land. That’s where the living room will be, right next to that stream.”

Shepard smiled. He bent down and picked up a rock and handed it to Tali. “Here. Think of this as a reminder of that promise your father made to you--the one that you’ll be able to make good on.” Tali cradled the rock in her hands for a moment before putting it into a pocket on her suit. “Now come on--let’s go put an end to this war.” They each unhooked their shotguns and walked up the rise overlooking the geth base.

“Commander,” Traynor radioed, “There’s heavy interference from a nearby jamming tower. EDI and I are compensating to keep you patched in with the fleet.”

“Good work, Traynor.”

A cadre of troopers dropped in and immediately took up cover positions in front of the base. Shepard let fly with a shockwave that staggered three troopers and drove them from cover, then charged in to send them flying against the sides of the box canyon that formed the entrance to the base. He got into cover when he saw a pyro-trooper close in. Tali activated her combat drone to distract the pyro. Kaidan popped up to drop the pyro’s shields with an Overload, and Shepard charged the pyro. It flew into a hunter right as Tali got out her heavy pistol and shot one of its fuel tanks. The geth detonated and sprayed flaming shrapnel over the hunter. Shepard dispatched it with a salvo from his shotgun, then turned and charged a rocket trooper right as the main door of the base slammed down.

“More troopers dropping in!” Kaidan shouted. He started to lay down covering fire from his rifle when two hunters dropped right in front of him. “Shit!” Kaidan lashed out with two heavy singularities that sent the hunters flying before they could engage their shields. He leaped over the barrier in front of him and ran down to Shepard’s position with Tali in tow.

“Heavy Fleet,” Han’Gerrel’s voice came in over the comms. “All forward.”

Admiral Raan responded. “Patrol Fleet, take up flanking positions on the Heavy Fleet.”

“Come on,” Tali said, “The fleets are in position--let’s get inside!” The group fought their way up the outside of the base to a back door. “Cover me, I’ll hack the door.”

Shepard and Kaidan took up positions just outside the entryway. Shepard opened his comms and said, “Dean, what’s your status?”

“We’re about three-fourths done with the Reaper Trap. You need backup?”

“We’ll make it,” Shepard replied. He switched to a sniper rifle and dispatched a rocketeer with a clean headshot before switching back to his shotgun. “Keep at it.”

“Got it.” After a few seconds, Shepard heard “Dammit Cas, what are you try--” before the comms went dead.

“That didn’t sound good.” Kaidan looked over at Shepard for a moment and bit his lip.

“Hey guys, it’s Sam--we’re okay. Cas just made a discovery. You’ll...uhh, you’ll see it when you get here, I guess.”

“Okay,” Shepard said slowly. “Guess we’ll find out.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Tali, how’s the door coming?”

“Got it!” The lock turned green, and the doors opened. “Quick, inside!”

Kaidan barrelled forward past Tali, assault rifle up. “Clear!” he announced from the airlock-type foyer. Tali scooted into the base with Shepard taking up the rear. Kaidan looked at the two of them and nodded, then hit the open on the interior door and ran to take up position behind a half-wall. “Looks like the geth have a welcoming committee ready,” he called. Shepard hustled past Kaidan and lined up a charge that sent a knot of three troopers flying over a railing. The catwalk they were on started to shake.

“Shepard-Commander,” Legion radioed, “Hostile geth have closed a blast shield over the base. We are marking the location of an override that will enable us to open the shield.”

“Thanks,” Tali replied. She and Kaidan scrambled down the catwalk after Shepard and took up positions on either side of the walkway heading into the interior of the base. Tali looked over the railing and saw the blast shield slowly closing. “Do you have that targeting system that Admiral Xen gave you?”

“Yeah.” Shepard hunkered down next to her and took out an energy bar. He quickly devoured it, washing it down with several deep swigs of water from his hardsuit’s internal drinking reservoir. “But it won’t be worth anything if we don’t get that blast shield open.” He looked over at Kaidan. “Ready, K?”

Kaidan nodded, jaw set. “Let’s unleash hell, Stannis.” He popped up and generated a warp field around a pair of geth. Shepard immediately stood and charged. The impact of Shepard’s barrier with the warp fields set off a detonation that crushed the troopers and and dropped the shields of a cloaked hunter, enabling Shepard to finish it off with a shotgun blast to the torso. Shepard immediately ducked behind another half-wall to let his barrier recharge, and Kaidan and Tali rushed up to join him.

“We make a great team,” Shepard commented. He smiled and gave Kaidan a quick kiss. “For luck.”

Kaidan smiled. “Thanks.”

 

“Almost done over here,” Sam called over his shoulder. “Our Omni-Tools might need to be replaced after this, though.” He paused and massaged a cramp that was starting to take over his right arm. “How you guys doing over there?”

Castiel looked up. “Finishing up now.” He came over and took a look at the sigil Sam was burning into the rock. “I can finish, if you like.”

“No,” Sam said. “I’m almost done.” He wiped some sweat off his forehead and resumed using the cutting torch function of his Omni-Tool to burn the foot-wide half-foot deep lines of the Reaper Trap into the rock. “Do you really think this is going to work, Cas?”

“Conventional tactics won’t work against the Reapers,” the angel explained. “I figured that it was time to try something unconventional.” He opened his comms. “Shepard, this is Castiel--what’s your status?”

“We’re in the base now,” Shepard responded, the sound of gunfire in the background. “The geth closed a blast shield over the base, and Legion’s trying to get it open.”

“Good--the trap is almost done.” Castiel reached down and tapped Sam on the shoulder. “Take a break and have some water with Dean, Sam. I can finish.” Sam nodded, and slowly stood. He turned and walked over to where Dean was sitting under some sort of scrubby bush.

“You know what this place reminds me of, Sammy?” Dean looked up at his brother and scooted over to let him sit in the shade. “New Mexico. Only with more water.” He took a deep swig from his canteen. “Cas send you over here?” he asked, nodding towards Castiel. The angel had his tongue out and looked to be actively concentrating on his work. Dust flew up into his face.

“Yeah.” Sam fished out his canteen and drained it, then burped. Dean rolled his eyes, and the two brothers laughed. “If this works, I’ll...I don’t know what I’ll do. Be surprised, I guess.” He half-smiled and dug out a second canteen, opened it up and sighed before taking a drink from it. “This suit’s supposed to have environmental controls, but you’d never know it, as hot as it is here.”

“Not as hot as some places--Wrex told me about the vorcha homeworld.” Sam looked at Dean and raised an eyebrow. “Vorcha,” Dean explained. “Those demon-looking dudes we saw on the Citadel? The ones that Garrus thought weren’t even allowed there?”

“Oh yeah, those guys.”

“Yeah. Apparently their homeworld’s nothing but desert, and hotter than this place--Wrex compared it to Hell, but I dunno if I’d go that far.” Dean shook his head a couple of times and took another drink from his canteen. “And it looks like Cas is done,” he said. He stood up. “Done already?”

Castiel nodded. He got out an energy drink and opened it up. “Yes--now all we have to do is find the Reaper.” He took a drink and looked at Dean. “I’ll be fine, Dean.”

“Cas, the last time you said that, the Leviathans got loose.” Dean sighed. “The last thing I want is to see you get indoctrinated, and us having to put you down.” His voice caught slightly, and he let out a heavy sigh. Castiel put a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean,” he said quietly, “I understand your concern--but indoctrination takes time. Even for me. As long as I minimise my exposure to Reapers, my chances of becoming indoctrinated remain low. Just like yours.”

“Uhh...Cas has been getting regular psych evals from Dr. Chakwas,” Sam interjected. “If he were becoming indoctrinated, Shepard would find out before we do.”

“Sam’s right. Doct--” Castiel looked up to see the Normandy streaking overhead and back up into space. He tilted his head and listened for a second, then looked up with wide eyes. “They found the Reaper.”

“All ships, this is Commander Shepard,” came the semi-panicked call over the comms, “It’s not a Reaper base, it’s a live Reaper!”

“Go time!” Dean barked. “Shepard, it’s Dean--I’m giving you our coordinates! Try to lure that Reaper over our way and get it in the middle of the trap!” He punched a couple of commands into his Omni-Tool, then looked at Sam and Castiel. “Let’s get to the top of that ridgeline and outta this canyon--move!” The trio scrambled out of the area of the trap and up to the top of the steep ridge. A tooth-rattling foghorn cut through the air, and the Winchesters looked over to see a Reaper Destroyer heading toward their trap, chasing a tiny geth hovercraft. The hovercraft banked sharply, and cruised down toward the trap with the Reaper close behind. “Shepard, want us to provide a little encouragement to that Reaper?”

“No,” Shepard replied. “Stay in cover.” The hovercraft skittered up the side of the ridgeline right as the Reaper stepped into the trap. It popped over the side, and the the Reaper took two steps forward and stopped. It stood there for several long seconds, then took another step forward.

“Wait here,” Castiel said. He popped out of sight and materialized in the center of the trap. Dean jumped up to chase him, but Sam grabbed him and pulled him back down. Castiel fired a pair of heavy biotic projectiles at the Reaper, then immediately teleported to the top of the ridgeline over the hovercraft’s position. The Reaper sounded its booming horn and took another two steps into the trap, to stand in the middle. Castiel materialized in the centre of the trap under the Reaper, aura fully engaged, and smacked the ground with a booming biotic shockwave before vanishing again. Shockwaves rippled out from the centre of the trap, and the rock began to break up under its feet. The Reaper attempted to steady itself while two plates slid aside on its face. A salvo from orbit clocked the metal monster in the open area, staggering it and driving it into the fracturing rock.

“What did we hit?” Admiral Gerrel radioed.

“The firing chamber,” Shepard replied. Dean and Sam looked over to see Shepard cresting the ridge with some sort of device in his hands. “It looks like a weak point when it’s priming.”

“Shepard-Commander,” Legion radioed, “We may escape if we leave now.”

“Negative,” Shepard replied. He scrambled down to the bottom of the ridge and stood there. “If we don’t take this thing down, the Geth stay under Reaper control and the Quarians are dead. This ends now.”

“We’re getting interference from the geth jamming towers,” Gerrel said. “We can’t make a precision shot.”

Shepard hefted the targeting unit. “EDI, patch me in to the whole damn fleet. I’ll paint the weak spot with the targeting unit. Sam, Dean, Cas--keep yourselves in cover and rendezvous with Legion.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other in shock.

“Shepard-Commander…” Legion said over its comms. “Good luck.”

“Acknowledged.” The Reaper managed to straighten itself up at least partway. It opened its firing chamber, and Shepard squeezed the trigger on his targeting laser. The Reaper fired off a wild shot over the ridgeline, and was answered by a salvo from the Quarian Heavy Fleet that staggered it again. The giant killing machine wobbled and looked like it would topple, but righted itself and started priming for another blast. Shepard trotted to his right and squeezed the trigger on the targeting unit. Right before the Reaper opened fire, a second shot from the Heavy Fleet smacked into its firing chamber and sent it face-first into the ground. One of the Reaper's feet punched further into the weakened stone, and the ancient machine stumbled. Sam and Dean carefully made their way through the brush to the hovercraft’s location just as another barrage from the Heavy Fleet hit the Reaper. The Reaper finally loosed its foot from the rock, sending heavy shards of stone flying. It stomped the loose foot on the rock as it primed for another shot, but the stone completely collapsed under it and its foot sank up to the knee, staggering the giant machine once again and giving Shepard precious seconds to paint its firing chamber again. A final devastating fusillade rained down from the Quarian fleet, and the Reaper collapsed for the last time, wreathed in scarlet static.

Shepard took two steps forward. The firing chamber lit up one last time as what looked like a gigantic electronic eye cast its gaze on Shepard. “Shepard…” a voice boomed.

“You know who I am?” Shepard asked defiantly.

“Harbinger speaks of you,” the dying Reaper blared, the vibrations of its voice driving it further into the sinkhole that had opened beneath it. “You resist...but you will fail. The cycle must continue.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Shepard spat.

“We are many.”

“We are more--and we will stop you.”

“You…” the Reaper protested.

“You--whatever species you were before the Reapers melted them all down to create you? They died thousands of years ago.” The Reaper’s eye went dark, and it crashed through the collapsed rock dome, landing a hundred meters below as scrap metal. “And now” Shepard said, “they can rest in peace.”

Tali and Kaidan walked over with Sam, Dean, and Legion to join Shepard before the corpse of the Reaper. “We did it,” Tali said after a long minute. “We killed a Reaper.”

Legion stated, “We confirm that the Old Machine signal has ceased transmission--we are free.” He looked at Shepard. “But Creator ships have resumed hostilities. Shepard-Commander,” it asked slowly, “do we deserve death?”

“What are you suggesting?” Shepard asked. He reached up and wiped some dirt from his brow.

“The Old Machine upgrade code. We could upload it to the geth.”

Tali gasped slightly. “You want to make the geth as smart as when the Reapers were controlling them?”

“Yes,” Legion replied, “but they would have true intelligence and free will, and they would help you.”

“Shepard,” Tali exclaimed, “My people are already attacking. If you let Legion upgrade the geth, the Fleet will be wiped out!”

“Creator Zorah,” Legion asked, “Do you remember the question that led the Creators to attack us? ‘Does this unit have a soul?’”

Shepard looked at Legion for a moment. “Legion, start the upgrade.” He opened his comms to the fleet as Legion started uploading his code to the geth. “All ships, this is Commander Shepard. Cease fire.”

“Negative!” Admiral Gerrel responded. “We can win this war now, while the geth are disorganised! All ships, keep firing!”

“Forty percent…”

Tali clung to Legion’s left arm. “I beg you Legion, please don’t do this…”

Legion stood still and continued its upload. “We regret the deaths of the Creators...but we see no other choice. Sixty percent…”

Dean and Sam looked at each other for a long moment, then back to Shepard. “Commander, If you don’t say something to the Quarians,” Dean growled, “I as sure as hell will.” His green eyes burned in the setting sun. “Too many people have died already--it’s time for these two to stow their crap and focus on the Reapers.”

“Dean’s right--no one else dies today,” Shepard said emphatically. “Legion, keep going.” He opened his comms again. “All ships, this is Commander Shepard. The Reaper is dead. I repeat, the Reaper is dead. Stand down!”

Tali opened her comms. “This is Admiral Tali’Zorah. Shepard speaks with my authority.”

“And mine as well,” Admiral Koris added.

“Negative,” Gerrel insisted, “We can win this war now!”

“Listen to me--your whole history has been about trying to wipe out the geth. You forced them to rebel, you forced them to ally with the Reapers.” Shepard paused for a moment. “The geth don’t want to fight you. If you can believe that, for just one minute, this war would be over. I’m begging you. Please.” he paused again before adding, “Keelah se’lai.”

Gerrel finally replied after a pause that seemed like an eternity. “Very well,” he said with resignation. “All ships, stand down.” Shepard smiled, and Dean and Sam both breathed a sigh of relief.

“Error: upload insufficient. Direct personality dissemination required.” Legion turned to Shepard as its circuitry changed from blue to red and then to purple before turning blue again. “Stannis,” it said, using Shepard’s first name for the first time, “I must...go to them.”

“Legion,” Tali said, her voice hitching slightly. “Castiel confirmed it on the way here, but the answer to your question...was yes.”

“I know, Tali.” Legion took her hand in both of his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you. Keelah se’lai.” The geth released its grip and fell to the ground, and went dark.

“Commander…” The group turned to see Admiral Raan limping toward them.

Shepard took a couple of steps forward. “Admiral Raan--I heard that your ship made a crash-landing. It’s good to see that you made it out in one piece.”

“I heard what happened,” she said quietly. “If Han’Gerrel hadn’t stopped…”

“He did,” Shepard said.

Raan looked over the horizon at her ancestral homeworld. “Where will we go?” she asked. “We have taken heavy losses in this war, I don’t know if the fleet can--”

Suddenly, Tali, Kaidan, and the Winchesters got out their pistols and pointed them just over the Admiral’s shoulder. Shepard and Raan turned to see a Prime walking towards them, its crimson-tinted carapace made darker by the early-evening sunset. It stopped a couple of feet away from them and spoke.

“You are welcome to return to Rannoch, Admiral Raan. With us.”

“That you in there, Legion?” Dean asked.

“No, Dean,” the Prime said, “I’m sorry--Legion sacrificed itself to give us all intelligence. And we will honour Legion’s promise.” It looked at Shepard. “The Geth will assist you when the time comes to retake Earth, Commander Shepard, and our engineers will assist with the building of the Crucible.”

“As will ours of course,” Raan affirmed.

“Admiral,” the Prime asked, “Had you considered possible settlement sites?”

“No--but the southern continent had excellent farmland, as I recall.” The Prime nodded and extended a hand, palm-up, to the Admiral. “You humble me with your kindness,” Admiral Raan said, taking the Prime’s hand. The Prime clasped her hand and bowed its head respectfully.

Shepard and Tali sat down to watch the sunset, and Kaidan called up his Omni-Tool to read a text. He walked over to Dean and Sam. “You guys need to get back to the Normandy ASAP,” he said. As if on cue, the shuttle landed and its doors opened.

“What?” Sam raised both eyebrows.

“It’s Cas.” Kaidan’s voice was serious. “He's passed out cold, and Cortez has him on the shuttle. He'll come back for the rest of us, but you guys should go back to the Normandy with him.” The Winchesters scrambled into the shuttle, and Cortez took off as the door closed behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freely admit that I couldn't think of how to work an explanation of how the Reaper Trap worked into this chapter--that will be in a future chapter.


	18. Meta Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mass Effect err Supernatural was filmed before a studio audience....or not.

JOKER and EDI are sitting in the cockpit of the Normandy. JOKER clears his throat.

JOKER (reading dramatically from a holo-panel in front of him): “On a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white leads unsuspecting men to their deaths…” Oh my god EDI, is this for real? This is so...so…. (JOKER scratches his chin)

EDI: I believe the word you want is “cheesy”.

JOKER: That works--I was also thinking that this is comedy gold! (JOKER pauses with his hand over one part of the panel, then looks over to EDI) Are you sure it’s them?

EDI: The descriptions of the main characters and the events in the stories are almost an exact match to their anecdotes and hunters’ diary. The probability of this being somebody else is so remote as to be effectively non-existent. In other words, “it is so them”. I should also point out that there are several dozen extranet sites already devoted to the exploits of what I believe is referred to in “The Song Remains the Same” as “Team Free Will”.

JOKER (laughing maniacally): Seriously? Oh, this is too much! I need to share this. Team Free Will is about to become Normandy Famous in 3...2...and (swipes over a holographic button labelled SEND. Behind him, the holographic lock on the door spins and turns red.)

TITLE: SUPERNATURAL splashes across the screen as an orange hologram against a background of stars. Occasionally a star blinks into an Enochian character. A crimson blast from an MHD cannon blows everything to bits, accompanied by the teeth-rattling sound of a Reaper horn. Cut to black.

 

SAM, DEAN, and CASTIEL sit around a table in the NORMANDY MESS, eating breakfast. CASTIEL’s tray has a ridiculous pile of food on it, and two large glasses of orange juice sitting alongside. A small group of crewmen are clustered around a datapad at a nearby table, giggling, whispering, and stealing occasional glances at the three hunters. DEAN looks over at them, then back to SAM and CASTIEL.

DEAN: Wonder what’s so funny?

CASTIEL swallows the bite of food in his mouth and shotguns the first glass of orange juice. SAM shrugs.

SAM: Maybe we shou--

DONNELLY: (gaily) Hey Sam--I heard Cortez was going to teach you to fly a shuttle. Are you and Vega going to have a demolition derby?

Crewmen laugh. DANIELS facepalms.

DANIELS: (annoyed) Really, Kenneth?

DONNELLY: What? Maybe Sam will teach Vega how to--OW! (DONNELLY winces and grabs his right shin. DANIELS glares at him.)

SAM: (to DEAN and CASTIEL) Umm...why do I have a bad feeling about this? (DEAN gets an uncomfortable expression. CASTIEL slowly sets his empty glass down and wipes his mouth with a napkin. SAM turns his attention back to DANIELS.) D’you want to tell us what’s going on, or should we just guess?

DANIELS: (sighing) Joker sent everyone these books that he got from the extranet…

DEAN: (eyes go wide) Say what!?

SAM: You’ve gotta be kidding me!

CASTIEL: (facepalming) Oh for my Father’s sake…

DANIELS (to DONNELLY, with an I-told-you-so tone): I knew it was a bad idea to say anything, Kenneth.

 

Cut to COMMANDER'S QUARTERS. SHEPARD is laying prone on the bed in his underwear, reading from a datapad. A little black cat is curled up next to him. SHEPARD occasionally skritches the cat behind the ears. He hears a sound and looks up briefly to see KAIDAN coming out of the bathroom with damp hair and a towel around his waist. 

KAIDAN: What you reading?

KAIDAN descends the steps and unwraps his towel. He finishes drying off, and gets out a fresh pair of briefs from a drawer under the aquarium.

SHEPARD: Oh, just some of those books that Joker sent to the crew.

KAIDAN, now wearing briefs, stretches out on the bed next to SHEPARD and lays his head on SHEPARD’s shoulder to read.

KAIDAN: (reading semi-dramatically) “On a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures unsuspecting men to their deaths…” (rolls eyes) I can’t believe people actually write like that.

SHEPARD: Yep. (SHEPARD half-snorts) They’re short, and I’ve read through a few of them already. These sound a hell of a lot like the--

SHEPARD and KAIDAN jump up and put on workout pants when they hear three quick knocks at the door. SHEPARD grabs a shirt and pulls it on. 

NINJA THE CAT: (trills inquisitively and looks up)

SHEPARD: It’s open.

Door opens. DEAN rushes in and stops at the top of the steps. He has a look on his face that’s part distress and part rage, and he’s trying not to hyperventilate.

DEAN: I swear to God….

SHEPARD: (coolly) No Dean, you can’t injure my pilot.

DEAN: (annoyed) I already tried. EDI’s locked the door to the cockpit.

KAIDAN chuckles and sits down on the bed. NINJA THE CAT sidles up next to him and stretches, then sits next to KAIDAN with his tail curled around him. DEAN paces furiously for a moment, then comes down the stairs.

DEAN: Dammit Shepard, those damn books are the bane of our existence! They have conventions where people pretend that they’re us, and role-play our lives! There are message boards, and websites--like extranet sites here--and...(DEAN looks at SHEPARD with a slightly horrified expression) There’s fanfiction where they have me and Sam together, like... _together_ together. (DEAN shudders and winces) It’s...dammit! I swear, it’s like we’re cursed or something!

SHEPARD laughs.

SHEPARD: Relax, Dean. They’re just stories.

DEAN: (incredulous) Just stories? Oh, I wish they were "just stories"! It’s so much worse than that...

 

Cut to LIARA’S QUARTERS.

SAM: ...they’re all true. I mean, there are some things that Chuck--the guy that wrote them--left out, like when (SAM gets a guilty look) I was drinking demon blood (Liara’s eyes widen briefly). I know, hard to imagine me being a monster...but yeah. Everything in there--and more--really happened. It’s not just stories that we made up. (SAM runs his hands through his hair for a minute or two, then sighs)

LIARA: Sam, for what it’s worth I believe you. (LIARA pulls up a display with a calendar on it) It pays to have access to a galaxy-wide information network--I did some digging when Joker sent the stories to the crew, mostly to satisfy my curiosity. This (LIARA points to a date on the display) is when the Supernatural books were first uploaded to the extranet. (LIARA marks something, then points to a much earlier date) And this is when you came onto the Normandy. It’s been about six months from the time you came on board to now, and the books weren’t posted until a week and a half after the Cerberus coup on the Citadel, which occurred two months after the start of the war. Since the three of you have been watched the entire time, there’s no way you could have uploaded those books yourself. (LIARA smiles) And EDI would have said something by now, if you had.

SAM: (surprised) Six months? We’ve been here that long?

LIARA: Oh yes. I know it doesn’t seem like much time has passed, but...yes. (LIARA looks over at SAM) And yes, I believe you. There also seem to be some newer “Post-Apocalypse” books that talk about what happened after you locked Lucifer in the Cage.

SAM: (groans) Oh crap....

 

Cut to ENGINEERING SUB-DECK. CASTIEL is sitting on his cot with a datapad in his hands. DANIELS comes down the stairs and knocks on one of the beams.

DANIELS: May I come in?

CASTIEL: Yes. I suppose. (CASTIEL sighs and sets the datapad on the cot next to him.)

(DANIELS sits down on the cot opposite CASTIEL) 

DANIELS: I had a few minutes before I go on-shift, but I wanted to apologize for this morning, in the Mess.

CASTIEL: (mildly confused) But you did nothing wrong, Chief.

DANIELS: You can call me Gabby, you know. I know I didn’t say anything about...well, you know--but I should have--

CASTIEL: Gabby. (CASTIEL smiles) I appreciate it. But you don’t need to apologize. (CASTIEL scratches his forehead for a moment and sighs) Those books, (CASTIEL indicates the datapad) I used to think they were a great thing. The Winchester Gospels, they called them in Heaven. The Inspired Word of God, written by a Prophet of the Lord. Now, they’re...well, they’re an unpleasant reminder of mistakes that were made. The later, post-Apocalypse books especially. They remind me of how I let my pride get the better of me...

DANIELS: (eyebrows raise) So it’s all true?

CASTIEL looks down at the floor and nods.

CASTIEL: (looking back up) Yes. All of it happened--there are some things that were left out from a few books, like Sam drinking demon blood. (DANIELS’ eyes go wide) But that only lasted for a couple of books. Otherwise…(CASTIEL takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly) yes, it’s all true. As fantastical as it still seems, the three of us really do come from a world where there are angels and demons...and monsters.

DANIELS: (slowly) Okay. (scratches head and quirks an eyebrow) Then...how did you get here? If you don’t mind my asking.

CASTIEL: I don’t know. Like I told Shepard after we first came on board; we were in our world, fighting some demons that had ambushed us at the old Singer residence--then there was a bright light, and… (CASTIEL’s voice trails off. His eyes widen, and after a few seconds he smacks his forehead) You have got to be kidding me.

DANIELS: What?

CASTIEL gets up from his cot and slowly rubs his hand over his face as the credit finally drops.

CASTIEL: I should have known. (CASTIEL starts to hurry up the stairs, then turns and comes back. He pauses for a moment, then hugs DANIELS) Thank you, Gabby. (CASTIEL turns and rushes back up the stairs)

 

Cut back to LIARA’S QUARTERS. SAM and LIARA have an open pint of ice cream on the table with two spoons. The container’s label reads FLAMING MOOSE TRACKS. A datapad is lying on the table next to the container. LIARA’s and SAM’s eyes are watering, and their faces are red.

LIARA: Oh Goddess! (LIARA fans herself and coughs a couple of times) I like spicy food, but that’s a lot more than I was expecting!

SAM: (rising from chair) Yeah, that’s pretty crazy spicy! (SAM wipes his eyes) Man, those Heshtok peppers really pack a punch! Let me see if I can go fi-- (SAM is interrupted by a garbled gurgling shriek from the MESS and a thump against the door, followed by muffled voices. He goes to the door, and opens it to see CHAKWAS and CASTIEL huddled over JAVIK. JAVIK’s eyes are open wide and he is catatonic, unable to do anything but stare blankly at the ceiling.) Uhh...do I want to know?

CHAKWAS: (slightly amused) Javik apparently decided to finally try “reading” Castiel. (CASTIEL looks down at the floor with a guilt-ridden expression on his face) I’m going to have to get him to Medbay so I can keep an eye on him. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that he’s a bit...overloaded.

CASTIEL: (regretfully) I’m sorry. I really didn’t in--

CHAKWAS: It’s not your fault, Castiel. Javik probably didn’t think that you were anything more than a prodigious human biotic. (JAVIK lets out an undignified squeak) Javik? (JAVIK nods slowly) Do you think you can walk? (JAVIK slowly sits up, shakes his head like he’s clearing mental cobwebs, then slowly nods again) Good. I’d like you to stay in the Medbay for a while.

JAVIK nods weakly, gets up, and half-stumbles toward MEDBAY with CHAKWAS right behind him. CASTIEL turns to SAM and LIARA.

CASTIEL: Where’s Dean?

SAM: Well since EDI locked the cockpit, he couldn’t go break Joker’s legs. So I think he went to complain to Shep--

CASTIEL vanishes, accompanied by the sound of wings and a faint crackle of static.

 

Cut to COMMANDER'S QUARTERS. DEAN is still standing in the middle of the room, this time with a horrified look on his face.

DEAN: He sent you fanfiction too?

KAIDAN: Yeah--I read a couple of the shorter ones. Does Cas ever get jealous of Sam? (DEAN facepalms. KAIDAN shrugs.) Maybe it’s just some subtext I’m n--

CASTIEL appears in the room with a faint blue halo and a crackle of static, which dissipates quickly.

CASTIEL: Angels.

DEAN freezes.

DEAN: What? (DEAN turns to face CASTIEL)

CASTIEL: I figured out how we got here. (CASTIEL takes a deep breath) The last thing I remembered before blacking out and waking up in this world was a bright light and…(CASTIEL massages his temples for a moment) Sorry, I have a bit of a headache.

DEAN: What, Cas? Angel Radio? I thought you turned that off?

CASTIEL: Yes, I did--but an angel was saying something directly to me...but I can’t remember what it was. (grimly) There are angels here, Dean. I’m sure of it.

SHEPARD: So if there are more of your people here, Cas, why haven’t we seen them?

CASTIEL: I don’t know. Maybe they’re staying out of this war. Maybe there was just the one angel. I don’t know.

DEAN: Fucking great. Cas, what the hell is it with your family that they can’t just leave well enough alone?

KAIDAN: Wait a minute--don’t angels hear prayers? Can’t you pray to them, and one of them will answer? (KAIDAN scratches his head) Maybe that will work?

CASTIEL: Or it may not. If there are indeed angels here, in this universe, they may be relying on other means of communication as a way to stay hidden from the Reapers.

KAIDAN: Oh right--Reapers can hack into...what did you call it? “Angel Radio”?

CASTIEL nods, still rubbing his temples.

SHEPARD: (sighing) Well, this certainly complicates things. 

Door opens. SAM walks in.

SAM: EDI told me you needed to see me, Shepard?

EDI: I may have...bent the truth a bit.

SHEPARD: I didn’t, but since we’re all here and we’re off-duty… (SHEPARD walks over to a panel on the wall and touches a button. A set of glasses and a bottle of whisky pop out.) We may as well have a drink.

 

LIARA’S QUARTERS. LIARA is sitting at her desk with a mostly-empty glass of milk. Her face is still slightly flushed from the spicy ice cream, but she is no longer sweating. GLYPH hovers over to LIARA’s desk.

GLYPH: Dr. T’Soni, I have a message for you.

LIARA: What is it, Glyph?

GLYPH: (helpfully) It is a text-only message. I was asked to show it to you when the Winchesters were not around.

LIARA: (raises eyebrow) Put it on the central monitor, please.

LIARA turns around as a series of glyphs appear on the screen.

GLYPH: Based on the Enochian vocabulary in the Winchesters’ journal, it reads…

LIARA: We...bringing workmen? I don’t recognise a couple of the glyphs.

GLYPH: It may be an indicator of past tense. “We brought workmen.”

EDI: Liara, I received a message that may provide context.

Another series of glyphs appear under the first series.

EDI: My message translates to “They are the hope that sharpens the Shepherd's blade.” Based on what Castiel has told me about angels and their programmed mission to protect Creation, I believe that whoever sent the message is indicating that they are also fighting the Reapers, and that they are the ones who brought the Winchesters here. It seems that we have unseen allies.

LIARA: But why not tell the brothers? I would think they’d want to know about this.

EDI: That would be unwise. Based on what I have read in the novels, the Winchester brothers work best when they believe that they are left to their own devices. This corresponds to my biographical data regarding notable humans who have triumphed over adversity, and my own observations of Shepard. In short, whoever sent the message is telling us that bringing the Winchesters here is all the direct aid that they will give us, and that the Winchesters are here specifically to help us. Extrapolating from that, we probably shouldn’t tell the Winchesters or Castiel, because they would become...distracted.

LIARA’s eyes widen.

LIARA: The implications of this...No, you’re right EDI. Sharing this would be very counter-productive.

EDI: Agreed. We should let this remain our secret.

 

CAPTAIN’S QUARTERS. SAM, DEAN, CASTIEL, SHEPARD, and KAIDAN are sitting around the coffee table. NINJA THE CAT is perched on the table grooming himself next to the whisky bottle.

SHEPARD: OK, so when you went to look for God, you were told to back off and that the Apocalypse wasn’t His problem?

DEAN: (disgusted) Yep. We were on our own, high and fucking dry.

KAIDAN: Maybe He was telling you that you guys were good enough to get the job done yourselves.

DEAN: (annoyed) He could have just come out and told us then, instead of jerking us around!

SAM: Dean… (DEAN looks at his brother) The more I think about it? Maybe Kaidan’s right. I mean, look at what happened when you tried to break through Lucifer to get to me. He was going to kill you, Dean, and he was forcing me to watch the whole thing--but when I saw that green army man that I stuck in the ashtray when I was six, it helped me focus and gave me the strength I needed to take control from him. (SAM puts a hand on DEAN’s shoulder) I may have been the one that threw Lucifer back in the Cage with Michael coming along for the ride--but there’s no way I could have done it without you.

DEAN looks down at the floor for a moment. His shoulders droop.

DEAN: (half-chuckling) Heh. Charlie…(looks up and shakes his head) She’s a friend of ours--loves comics and can give Tali a run for her money when it comes to hacking a computer. She once told me that “there’s pretty much nothing the Winchesters can’t do if they work together.” (DEAN rubs his face with his palm. He reaches for the glass of whisky in front of him, then sits back and sighs before knocking back the alcohol inside) OK, so maybe Kaidan’s right. Maybe God was telling us that we could handle it.

CASTIEL: But if that’s true, then why did I break everything again after the Apocalypse?

DEAN: Because you made a deal with Crowley, remember?

CASTIEL sighs and nods. All five men sit around the table quietly for a moment. CASTIEL takes DEAN’s free hand and gives it a squeeze. DEAN half-smiles and squeezes back.

SHEPARD: That was really backhanded of Him to do that, but I guess I can see the point. The Council refused to listen to me when I tried to warn them about the Reapers--even after Sovereign and the Collectors. The only thing that kept me going sometimes was my team. Sometimes it’s still the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that I’m not alone in the fight. (SHEPARD looks over at KAIDAN and smiles)

KAIDAN: You always bring out the best in people, Stannis. If it wasn’t for you...I don’t know that I’d have gotten as far as I did in the Alliance.

SHEPARD: (grinning) What, shacking up with your commanding officer? (KAIDAN rolls his eyes.)

KAIDAN stands and paces toward the fishtank, then turns to face the group.

KAIDAN: You know what I mean--if it weren’t for you, Anderson wouldn’t have tapped me for Special Ops--hell, I’d probably have been melted down by the Collectors, taken when they hit Horizon. And look at Tali, the Admiral. And Liara, the Shadow Broker. And Wrex? Wrex is leading the Krogan now, trying to give them a better future thanks to you. Garrus would still be in C-Sec fighting mountains of red tape if you hadn’t come along and given him something to fight for, and Cortez told me how you helped him handle the death of his husband.

DEAN: Oh, I think James is helping with that too. (SAM facepalms, CASTIEL gets a briefly confused look on his face. KAIDAN shakes his head and then looks back at SHEPARD)

KAIDAN: My point is that we can do it. We’ve got hope--from you (KAIDAN points to SHEPARD), from the three of you (KAIDAN indicates Team Free Will), from everyone that believed in you when the Council wouldn’t listen...so maybe that was God’s whole point to the three of you; that He knows you can get it done and that you don’t need Him to do all the heavy lifting.

CASTIEL: I wish...I don’t know. I still feel like a baby in a trenchcoat, especially since I have to refrain from using my biotics. (CASTIEL rubs his temples again, and sighs.) I still get the occasional headache.

SHEPARD: Teleporting in like that couldn’t have helped, and I’m sure Doctor Chakwas will have something to say to you. But you did fine on Sur’kesh without the biotics. I’m pretty sure you’ll do fine now. 

SAM: Umm...is this a bad time for me to mention that there are new books? Like “Post-Apocalypse” books?

DEAN: (enraged) WHAT? I am going to…

SHEPARD: Stand down, Dean. Don’t worry about the books--As far as the galaxy is concerned, they’re entertainment, and it’s a morale boost for the crew. You’ll get some more ribbing, but eventually it’ll all die down and it’ll be business as usual again.

KAIDAN: Professionally weird?

SHEPARD nods and knocks back his drink.

SHEPARD: Yeah. Professionally weird.


	19. Something Old, Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Normandy goes on shore leave, things go pear-shaped immediately, and we're introduced to another player.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with the Rannoch missions, I'm breaking up the Citadel DLC plotline (irrespective of the visits and hanging-outs) into two stories. Mostly for flow, but also because I don't want the chapters to be ridiculous long. :) As always, comments and con-crit are more than welcome. :)

**April 2186**

A large table in the middle of a brightly-lit room showed a lit-up map of the galaxy and its relay network. A petite woman with olive skin and tied-back brown hair, wearing an Alliance dress uniform, pursed her lips and tapped one of the systems on the map. “It’s been six days since Khar’shan fell. Have we heard from Justinian?”

“We received a transmission via the emergency backchannel three days ago,” came the somber reply from a middle-aged man with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in battered armour like some bounty hunter from Omega.  “He’s gone to ground with the Batarian resistance, and he said not to wait up for him. Kael's reported in--Palaven’s been hit, and the Arcturus comm buoys went dark shortly thereafter. They’re hitting hard and fast.”

"As we expected." The woman sighed and removed a name next to a system on the map, and put it on a board behind her. “And so he joins Rosetta,” she commented. "At least, until we hear from him.

“What if he’s…”

“Then we do what’s necessary, Meshach.” Her voice was grim. “And we honour his sacrifice in the service of Creation.” She turned and looked back at the man across the table. On the map, several small points of light flared up around Arcturus, and the woman looked back down at the map. “Our people in the Fifth and Second Fleets just reported in--looks like the battle is joined at Arcturus. We all know how they do it," she said, looking up at her companion, "what the risks are--even for us. Doesn’t make it any easier, even with all our preparations and intel, but...yeah.” The woman signed again, and looked back at the map. She tugged on the hem of her tunic. “Any word on the search for our missing child?”

“No. Wherever he is, he’s very well-hidden.”

“Dammit.” The woman looked up. “And we’re out of time. At this point--” her voice caught momentarily, and she took a deep breath. “If we find him, we find him.” She sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I hate this.”

“Izzy…” Meshach came around the table and put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll do our best to keep looking for him. You know that right?”

“I know. Did Az get the package delivered?”

“Yeah, and she just reported in--they got the breadcrumb. She's going to have to go dark, though...for obvious reasons.”

“Well that’s something, I guess.” Izzy rubbed her temples for a moment, then looked down when her Omni-Tool pinged an alarm. “I better get my ass back to the _Orizaba_. Ste--my boss will need me. And I was supposed to be in the head, so I'm sure somebody will come looking for me now that the shit has officially hit the fan.” She reached up and patted Meschach on the shoulder. “Let’s go fight this war,” she whispered, looking back at the galaxy map. “I just pray that the good guys win this time around.”

  
  
  


**One year later**

  
  


“Cas, uhh...” Sam pointed at the growing stack of fry boats with slightly charred sticks and smears of bright red sauce in them. “You want to dial it back on the varren skewers there?” He looked over at the Asari order-taker at the Fishdog Food Shack. The lavender-skinned woman met Sam’s gaze and slightly shook her head, violet eyes wide with equal parts fear and disbelief. “They’re going to cut you off,” Sam quipped as he looked back to his friend.

“Mmm,” the angel replied, swallowing the last of another skewer. “Sorry--I was pretty hungry.” He burped, and a passing Salarian stopped in his tracks and shot Castiel an offended look before shaking his head and walking on. “And that sauce is quite addicting.” Castiel looked down the food court toward the pastry shop. “Dean still drooling over the pies?” Almost immediately, a large box was set in front of him, and Dean sat down next to Sam on the other side of the table.

“There,” Dean said. “Pie, made from some fruit native to Thessia. If you’re still hungry after this, Cas, I swear I’m going to take you hunting for another Cerberus cruiser.” He let out a slight snort when Castiel opened the box and started digging into the fruit pie. “Pastry chef told me it’s got eezo in--.” Dean raised an eyebrow and started counting fry boats. He looked over at the Fishdog menu board. “For the love of your dad, Cas, you spent 250 credits on varren skewers?!” Castiel blushed slightly, and Dean shook his head. “I hate to think of how bad the grocery bills will be if you’re still biotic when we get home. How’s the pie?”

“Tastes like a cross between an apple and a strawberry,” the angel replied between messy bites, “with eezo on top.” Sam handed him a napkin, and Castiel wiped his mouth. “Sorry.”

“All hands,” their comms crackled, “this is Joker--Shepard and I were at this sushi place in the Wards when some armed thugs attacked. I think he might need some help, guys.”

Before the Winchesters could respond, Castiel jumped up from the table and ran around the corner from the Fishdog kiosk.

“Cas, wait!” Dean scrambled after him, but only heard the sound of rustling wings and smelled ozone as he rounded the corner. “Dammit!” He signed and turned to Sam. “There anything left of that pie?” Sam showed him the empty box right before he tossed it in the trash, and Dean rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s go get a cab.”

Sam tapped a couple of commands on his Omni-Tool, and a display popped up on the cab’s dashboard. “There, now we’re tracking him. See if you can raise Shepard.”

“Shepard?” Dean radioed. “This is Dean--what happened?”

“Dean, you may want to be--” Kaidan’s voice was cut off by a slightly agitated feminine voice.

“Excuse me, but you’re endangering _Commander Shepard_.”

“What the--”

“It’s okay Brooks,” Shepard cut in. “He’s on our team. We’re at Cision Motors on Zakera Ward, Dean. Hostiles are heavily armed, so be ready for a firefight when you get here.”

“Roger that.” A C-Sec shuttle went blitzing past the skycar, coming a little too close for Sam's liking. “Wow, they’re in a hurry!”

“Cision Motors,” Sam said. “That’s where Cas’ ping is. He’s got to be there somewhere.”

Dean sighed. “Great.” He keyed his radio. “Shepard, Cas is near your location.”

“I know. He’s in the manager’s office. There’s a C-Sec shu--shit!” The radio went dead amid the sounds of gunfire. Sam gunned the engine on the skycar and dodged a couple of C-Sec drones that blinked warning lights at them, rapidly approaching the C-Sec shuttle that had passed them seconds before. The shuttle was open, and gunfire was spraying out of the open door at two men huddled behind a large metal planter.

“There’s the car lot,” Dean pointed. “And it looks li--holy shit!” A window shattered, and a very large object plummeted down to land on the shuttle’s forward drive compartment, causing the shuttle to promptly shut down and come to a rest on the ledge. The object rose up, a very annoyed Krogan in battered crimson armour that hopped off of the now-smoking shuttle and stomped inside. The second door flew open, and a man in heavy armour went flying out and down to the wards below, followed shortly thereafter by another. Sam set the car down, and he and Dean jumped out and ran toward Shepard and an armoured Kaidan. “What the hell happened?” Dean asked, Carnifex out and cocked.

“These guys are more of the mercs that attacked me at the sushi place.” In contrast to Kaidan, Shepard was wearing a black leather jacket, heather-grey v-neck shirt, and black denim trousers over a pair of casual dress boots.

A grumbled curse made the group look over to see Wrex hopping out of the shuttle with two heavy guns, one of which he tossed to Shepard. “Oh good, we have some backup.” Wrex clapped Dean on the shoulder and winked at him and Sam. “You two go get yourself something from the shuttle--those idiots won’t be needing it anymore.”

“Wrex?” Shepard asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Butting heads with the Council over Krogan expansion,” Wrex drawled. Before he could say anything more, an explosion shattered the skylights of the car dealership, and several more armoured mercs dropped in. “Hey! Winchesters! Front and center, princesses!” Dean and Sam scrambled out of the shuttle with a gun each, and headed for cover inside the dealership. “Shepard, we got a way out of here?”

“Please Wrex,” Shepard quipped, “I’m a professional.”

“That’s not a yes!” Wrex shot back.

“It’s not a no!” As soon as he said it, Shepard charged one of the mercs and piledrove him into a wall festooned with promo posters for the latest Cision Motors models, then dove into cover as Kaidan headcapped a sniper that was drawing a bead on him.

“Shepard,” Joker radioed, “I’m almost to your location in a skycar.”

“Roger that!” Shepard charged a pair of mercs that Kaidan had hit with a biotic warp, sending them flying in a violent explosion. He turned and cut down another merc with his assault rifle before ducking behind a car. “Dean! You and Sam grab Cas--we’ll cover you!”

“Roger that!” The brothers jumped out of cover and shot their way toward the manager’s office. Shepard, Kaidan, and Wrex laid down covering fire while Sam hacked the lock. The door opened, and the Winchesters ran inside to find a terrified Volus cowering behind a desk and a very pale and unconscious Castiel slumped over in a chair.

“Oh crap. Uhh, sorry sir,” Sam said when he saw the Volus. “We’re just here to get our friend.” He picked up Castiel and carried him toward the door.

“Please take him and leave,” the Volus wheezed nervously as he tried to wedge his rotund exo-suited body under the desk. “I don’t want to die.”

The Winchesters exited the office and ran back toward their cab right as Joker came in to land, and quickly bundled Castiel into the back seat under covering fire from Shepard, Kaidan, and Wrex. Shepard and Kaidan leaped into the skycar with Joker, who tore off while Wrex clambered into the back of the cab next to Castiel. “Punch it!” Dean said, reaching for the safety harness. Sam gunned the engine as another squad of mercs dropped into the dealership and started firing on them. Rounds pinged off the fuselage of the skycar, and one bullet spidered the windshield. Dean pulled out his Carnifex and pointed it at the glass. “I got this--go into a 30-degree dive!”

“What?!” Sam looked at his brother incredulously. “No, Dean, you’re not going to shoot out the windshield while we’re going a hundred miles an hour!”

Wrex laughed from the back seat. “I've got enough scars," he quipped, "I don't need anymore thanks!”

  
  
  


_“It’s never easy, is it?”_

_Izzy looked up at Him and sighed. “No,” she said. “But then we never expected it to be easy.” She reached over and lit another candle in the dimmed memorial alcove. “We’ve prepared, we’ve watched, we’ve planned and even made contingencies...but it doesn’t make it any easier to take when...” A tear ran down her face, and He reached over to wipe it away. “I feel like I’ve failed them.”_

_“You haven’t failed anyone, Israfel. Just remember what I told you.” He smiled and hugged her, and kissed her on the forehead. “Your chances are very good. Just...well, you know.”_

_Israfel smiled. “I know. Don’t be afraid to trust them, and they’ll pleasantly surprise you.” She sighed and looked up at Him. “The most important lesson You ever taught us.”_

_“And one that I wish I’d taught the others.” He gave her another squeeze, and stepped back. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”_

_Israfel nodded, and He turned and walked through the door from the alcove. Israfel turned to look back at the candles, one for each one of her people that had fallen in this war. “I just hope You’re right,” she whispered. A soft ping made her look down at her Omni-Tool. She tapped it, and a text message popped up:_

_He’s on the Citadel, in highly questionable company._

_Israfel sighed and gently rubbed at the mark on her forehead. “Dammit.”_

_  
“Watch him,” she typed. “I’ll be there ASAP.” _


	20. Something Borrowed, Something Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody steals Shepard's ship--not even Shepard! 
> 
> Includes a couple of short POV segments featuring the ship's cat and the creative use of an open ammo box.

Dean stepped to the bar. “Shot of whiskey,” he shouted over the loud techno on the dance floor. “Actually, make that a double--neat.” The bartender nodded, passed over a tumbler of amber liquor and ran Dean’s credit chit, then moved on to the next customer. The hunter took his glass and meandered to the railing by the dance floor, where he could look out on the party at the Silver Sun Casino. He grimaced for a moment as he felt his hair stand on end, then took a sip of his drink.

“You don’t look very happy to be here, Dean--I thought for sure you’d be trying to beat the Quasar tournament or betting on the varren races.” Garrus leaned in with his own drink in hand. “Worried about Cas?”

“No,” Dean said abruptly at first, then again more slowly. “No, he’ll be fine.” He took another sip of his whiskey and made a tooth-sucking sound. “You ever get that feeling that a job is about to go horribly wrong, but you don’t know when or why?” He watched Shepard and Kaidan mingle on the floor and listened to the chatter in his ear.

_Shepard, I can misdirect the guard heading for the storeroom, but you must delay him so I have time to hack in to his commlink._

_“I’m on it, EDI."_

_“Hurry!”_

_“We’ve got this, Brooks. Just sit tight.”_

Shepard stopped the security guard with a hand on his chest. Dean watched him get in the guard’s face, then watched the guard take a step back and answer a hail on his comms. After a minute, Shepard put up his hands and gave the guard his best sheepish look, and the guard continued on his way.

“Something isn’t right, Garrus.” Dean looked down into his glass and swirled his drink for a moment before draining it. “I don’t know what it is, but I feel like we’re all being…”

“Led down the garden path?” The turian scanned the lower level. Shepard and Kaidan continued to wander the floor, occasionally talking to other partygoers, throwing a few credits on gambling tables, and distracting guards while Shepard quietly hacked a security sensor or two. “I think that’s the phrase that humans use. It’s not just you--I’ve got that feeling too.”

A text message popped up on Dean’s Omni-Tool.

_Tali and I want to take a look at whatever you guys find. This job seems way too easy. -- Sam_

Dean watched a guard look the other way right as Shepard walked past him and down a hallway to join Kaidan, who had hacked a camera within eyeshot of that same guard. He keyed a response to his brother.

_This is a setup. A guard watched Kaidan hack a camera and didn’t say a thing, then let him and Stannis wander down a “security only” hallway without making a move. Hack the comms if you can, I’m heading down to provide backup. Dean looked down at his Carnifex for a moment and prepared to head downstairs when Garrus gently rested a hand on his right shoulder and leaned in._

“Not a good idea Dean,” he purred in Dean’s ear. “Shepard and Kaidan are Spectres, C-Sec can’t touch them. You and me, on the other hand, aren’t as fortunate.” Dean looked at his friend, who shook his head. “Trust me on this one,” Garrus said quietly. “Let’s finish our drinks and head back.” He downed his dextro whiskey in one gulp. “Fortunately, the apartment’s within walking distance.”

“Khan’s dead,” Shepard’s voice crackled over their comms units. “Somebody got to him before we got here, and wiped his comm logs. We’re gathering what we can and heading back.”

“It’s a setup,” Dean muttered. “I’d bet my life on it--and I bet that Brooks chick is in on it.”

  
  
  
  


The security guard quietly stepped out of a side exit and keyed a comm channel on his Omni-Tool, then tossed his security visor in the trash. “Wing One, checking in.”

“How’s the party?”

“It was fine, up until the host got killed.” The guard ducked into an alley, then ran a hand through his short brown hair and leaned up against the side of the building for a moment. “But she’s with them. With any luck, she’ll lead us to the missing child.” He rubbed his deep brown eyes and sighed.

“Israfel gave him a name--shouldn’t we use it?”

“I know, I know.” He sighed. “I just...I don’t know if I’m comfortable calling him that name yet. I knew his namesake--Izzy will understand.” He paused and watched a couple of Salarians go wandering past. He nodded at them politely, yawned slightly, then continued. “I need to get some snack-and-sack time for my Companion--I’m heading home for dinner and a nap.”

“They’ll be hot and waiting for you.”

A vorcha walking past the alley heard the sound of rushing wings. He turned and looked toward the source of the sound, but saw nothing except a single feather floating down to  the ground.

  
  
  


“Well,” Shepard said, “That could have gone better.” He loosened his collar and started to undo his cufflinks as he walked into the apartment with Kaidan, Dean, Garrus, and Brooks in tow. Sam and Tali were sitting around the dining room table with EDI and Liara. Brooks walked over and handed an OSD to EDI, then went to stand across from the AI and next to Sam.

“Stannis,” EDI commented, using Shepard’s first name, “We haven’t been able to trace Khan’s connection to our unknown caller--but a search of his recent business transactions did turn up some very interesting results.”  She nodded to Liara, who straightened her white tunic and pressed a button on the holo-display.

“It appears that Khan had sold a great deal of hardware to a mercenary group called Cat 6. As many of you know, Cat 6 is the Alliance Military designation for “dishonourably discharged.”” She wrinkled her nose slightly. Wrex snorted. “Yes,” Liara quipped. “As I was saying--the members of this group have all been cashiered out of the Alliance military for offenses ranging from drug dealing and steroid abuse to robbery and murder. Whoever our mystery person is, he doesn’t seem to care who he associates with.”

The Winchesters grimaced. Javik cast a sidelong glance at the brothers. “You could say we have some experience with dealing with the devil,” Dean quipped. “Whoever this guy is, he’s probably desperate--” He looked over at Shepard. “You know as well as I do that a desperate man isn’t going to be a walk in the park.” Shepard nodded in response, and Liara punched another button.

“Our mystery person has been buying everything from small arms to mechs.” An Atlas mech showed up on the screen as she spoke, along with images of weapons and crates of ammo and medkits.

“What the hell would he want with me--” Shepard’s question was cut off by the sudden appearance of Glyph, who bounced over the table flashing red and blue.

“Be careful!” Javik exclaimed. “This machine is about to rebel!” The Prothean narrowed his eyes and started to reach for his sidearm when Liara reached over and stopped him.

“Commander,” Glyph chirped, “Your Spectre ID has just been used to access the Citadel Archives.”

“That’s our cue, everyone--grab your gear. Brooks, you t--” Shepard turned around to go toward the stairs, when he stopped in his tracks and looked down at a Volus carrying a red-and-white box. He looked back at the group. “Uhh, what’s with the Volus?”

“Pizza delivery,” James responded. “I, uh, got the munchies.” He shrugged. “What can I say?”

“Extra pepperoni,” the Volus wheezed. “That’ll be 25 credits.”

  
  
  


Israfel knelt in the Orizaba’s meditation area. “Father,” she quietly whispered. “I know you won’t reply, you have other things on your plate right now...This war has pulled us in a bunch of different directions. I hope that I remember what I’ve learned here, and…” the angel sighed deeply. “I hope that when the time comes, I can do what needs to be done.” She looked out the window at the stars and smiled slightly when she saw one twinkle. “I’ll do my best as always, Dad.” She put a hand on the window. “Love you.”

Her Omni-Tool pinged when she stood up. _They’re all in the Archives--he’s looking for something._  Israfel scrunched up her nose a bit and let out what sounded like a cross between a huff and a sigh.

 _I’ll be there ASAP_ , she replied. _Good work, everyone_.

The angel turned and quietly walked out of the meditation room, and down the hallway. “Lieutenant,” an Ensign called as he ran up to her, cap askew. “Lieutenant! Admiral Hackett needs you.” He quickly saluted. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” Israfel replied. “Don’t worry about the salute with me, Chapman,” she said, reading the name off his uniform. “We’re in a war--I’m not going to worry about formalities.” She smiled. “Please let the Admiral know that I need to hit the head before going on duty, so that I don’t piss myself at work.” Ensign Chapman nodded and turned to walk briskly back down the hall. Israfel stopped at the door to the officers’ head and listened for a moment to verify that it was unoccupied. She stepped inside and secured the door. After a few seconds, she turned and reached out to touch her reflection in the mirror.

“Going after the wayward son?” the reflection asked. Israfel nodded. “I’ll be okay, Izzy. It’s not like we haven’t done this sort of thing before.” The reflection smiled. “And it’s not the first time I’ve had to give you a pep talk in a bathroom mirror, either, young lady.”

“We’re not exactly young anymore, Adi.” Israfel said to the soul of her vessel.

“You know what I mean, old friend. You have a job that you have to do, and you’ll have to do it without my help. Go. I’ll hold down the fort and keep an eye on Steven until you get back.”

“Don’t forget to let the cat in,” Israfel replied. Her body began to glow, and her vessel’s head went back, mouth open wide. A torrent of celestial energy gushed forth from the vessel’s body, whisking its way through the bulkheads and out into space.

The door to the head opened, and an irritated-looking Marine uncrossed his arms and stood from where he was leaning against the bulkhead. “About time!” he snapped, pushing his service cap back. “Fuckin’ assholes campin’ in the fuckin’ h--”

“Got a problem, Major?” Israfel’s vessel--Adi--crossed her arms and gave the Marine an annoyed look. The man was the ranking Marine on the ship and outranked her, but she was still his superior by dint of her position on the ship.

The Marine officer blinked, then snapped to attention and saluted. “Lieutenant Benson! Sorry ma’am, I didn’t know you were in the head ma’am.” He looked down at the Lieutenant in front of him. “If you’re done, ma’am…”

“It’s all yours, Major.” Adi smirked. “But you may want to be careful in case it’s our boss taking a long piss next time.” She turned and walked back down the hallway past the meditation area to the turbolift, straightening her dress blues.

  
  
  


“Sam and Dean Winchester.” The mystery man--a clone of Stannis Shepard--sneered at the hunters. “Two boys so desperate for attention that they decided to dress up like two badly written characters from a second-rate work of fiction.”

Dean lunged toward the clone. Sam and James grabbed him “It’s not worth it Dean,” Sam barked. “He’s not Stannis--he’s a cheap knockoff, and you know it.”

The clone smirked and gave a half-snort. “I’m Stannis, perfected--without all the self-doubt and the creaking joints. I’m the lone wolf that he was meant to be.” He turned and walked toward the exit from the room. “Kill them,” the clone said over his shoulder. “The Cult of Shepard ends today.”

“Oh hell no!” Dean unhooked his shotgun and extended it in one smooth motion, then blasted a Cat 6 trooper in the face. The room erupted in a hail of gunfire as the Normandy’s crew scrambled for cover and the clone calmly strode out the exit, locking it behind him and leaving his mercs to fend for themselves. Sam activated his Omni-Tool’s battle-gauntlet function and smashed a heavy trooper in the side of the head with a flaming orange fist before following up with a blast from his own shotgun.

“They have a krogan!” One of the mercs called out. “Why don’t we have a krogan?!”

“Uncle Urdnot’s back in town--and he’s brought the boom!” Wrex charged a pair of mercs on the top level and sent them flying over the edge to the floor below, where Kaidan dispatched them with a fusillade from his assault rifle.

Shepard ducked behind a desk to let his barrier regenerate after a sending a small knot of mercs flying with a biotic detonation. “Is that a catch phrase, Wrex?”

“I’m trying it out,” the Krogan bellowed with a laugh. “Whaddaya think?!”

“I don’t know about Shepard,” Garrus called out, “But I like it!” He followed up with a shot that exploded the head of a merc sniper like a ripe melon. “I’d like it even better if we can past these mercs and go after that clone!” A shot pinged off of Garrus’ armour. “Like right now, please!”

The door unlocked, and the Normandy crew hustled through with the Winchesters providing cover. Dean’s Omni-Tool pinged. He tapped the back of his left hand as he dove back through the door, and a text popped up.

_Where are you? I can come help._

“Dammit Cas!” Dean quickly tapped a response. _No. Stay at the apartment and eat something. There’s a volus with a pizza around there somewhere--give him 25 creds and it’s yours._

_Please Dean, I can help._

_NO, Cas. You’re already in hot water with Doc Chakwas because of your little stunt at the car-lot. Stay home and hold down the fort. We’ll be fine, I promise._

“Damn baby in a trenchcoat…” Dean muttered.

  
  


_Izzy’s going to need you after all, Adi. When can you get away?_

_I’m in the Officers’ Head. Make it quick._

Israfel opened her eyes, then reached out and touched her reflection in the mirror again. “I apologize for keeping you awake when I should be letting you get sleep,” she said quietly.

“It’s cool, Izzy. It’s not the first time we’ve had to adjust our schedules for an emergency.” Adi smiled back at the angel inhabiting her body. “I’m ready to go whenever you are, old friend--let’s go see if we can’t rescue a lost child.”

Israfel nodded. She turned and unlocked the door to the head, then vanished.

  
  


“Team Mako, what’s your status?” Shepard tapped his comms. “Team Mako!”

“No good Stannis,” Kaidan replied. “The clone’s jamming our communications.” He popped up from behind a shelving unit and surrounded a merc heavy with a biotic field, then followed up with a pair of micro-singularities that detonated the field. The merc exploded from the force of the detonation, which sent desks flying in all directions. A sickening crunch heralded the caving-in of a sniper’s head, and two troopers staggered from the force of the blast. Kaidan hit one of the mercs with another field that sent the merc thrashing, and Shepard charged him to set off another biotic explosion that gibbed the merc and finished off his partner.

“Clear--let’s go!”

“Commander,” Brooks’ voice came over the comms. “Team Hammerhead is down. I’ve been hit--help!”

“Hang tight Brooks,” Shepard responded. “We’re almost to your position.”

Shepard charged through the door with Kaidan, Wrex, and Dean in tow. Through an open doorway, they saw Brooks backing up, firing her pistol repeatedly. Dean’s eyes narrowed, and he pulled up right as Shepard, Kaidan, and Wrex ran forward to be surrounded by a force field that sealed them in an Archive vault.

“Dammit,” he hissed. The hunter dove for cover, and tapped out a short message on his comms.

Shepard’s Omni-Tool blinked. He tapped it, and a brief message popped up on the text-display:

_Brooks = Ruby._

“Wha…? Team Hammerhead, do you copy?!  Team Mako, are you there?!” Shepard was answered only by a crackle of static.

“The short answer is, “No, they’re not.” The clone slowly walked out from the open doorway in front of the group, a smug expression on his face. “Isn’t that right, ‘Staff Analyst Brooks’?”

On cue, “Brooks” came sauntering out and leaned up against the clone. She rested a hand on his shoulder, and the clone crossed his arms defiantly. Shepard fired off a shot at the barrier, which didn’t budge. The clone shook his head.

“You two may think you’re clever--and yeah, you are, a little.” Shepard took a breath before continuing. “But clever won’t stop a bullet--and it won’t keep me from tracking you down.”

“I don’t see how you can track us down when you’ll be sealed in an iridium vault forever,” the clone snarked. He turned and keyed in a command on a console.

“Preparing to update biometric information,” a digitized voice intoned. The clone removed the gauntlet from his right hand and pressed his hand to a plate next to the console. “Biometric information updated for SHEPARD, STANNIS MICHAEL.” The clone smiled and turned to Shepard.

“I should go,” he said as he put his glove on again. He walked back through the door, calling “Good luck getting them out of the vaults, Dean--you’ll need it!” over his shoulder as the vault’s mechanism slid it into an open slot on the wall.

“Dammit,” Dean muttered. He got up from behind the crates he’d been using for cover, and walked over to the console. “How the fuck do I open these damn things?”

“Do I really say “I should go”?” Shepard asked over the comms.

“Uhhh yeah,” Wrex replied, “you do.”

“But I don’t always say it like that, do I? Maybe I say, “I should _go_. I _should_ go. _I_  should go….””

Kaidan’s voice cut in. “Uhhh….am I the only one who’s concerned that we have maybe an hour’s worth of air left?”

Dean tapped his comms and chimed in, “I’m trying to get you out, guys. Where’s that drone of Liara’s?”

“I dunno,” Shepard said. “Hey Glyph, you out there?”

“Yes, Commander.” Glyph buzzed the vault.

“Go help Dean get us out of these things, will you?”

“Certainly, Commander!” Glyph bounced over to Dean. “Allow me to do this task for you, Dean.” The drone tapped into the vault controls, and several vaults slid open at once to let the _Normandy_ ’s crew out. “All done,” the drone announced. “Commander, your clone has made his way to the docks. I suggest making haste if you wish to recover the Normandy.”

“Thanks, Glyph.” Shepard grabbed a couple of thermal clips that had been left behind, and stashed them in a pocket on his armour.

  
  
  


The door to Ninja’s room slid open, and a strange you-man stomped in. The tiny cat looked up from his perch on the shelf, quickly hopped down onto the desk and then to the floor. He padded over to the newcomer, who was throwing things onto the bed willy-nilly and looked like Ninja’s Catdaddy from the back. As he got closer, he sniffed the air, expecting his nose to tell him that this was you-man he’d adopted as his Catdaddy. The you-man turned and saw him when Ninja trilled inquisitively, and his lips curled into a snarl. “A cat? Oh hell no, not on _my_ ship! C’mere, you little shit.”

Ninja hissed and swiped at the strange you-man who looked like his Catdaddy, but was not his Catdaddy.  He leapt at Not-Catdaddy’s face and left a couple of huge gashes with his sharp claws, then flew back toward the steps, leaving a few more rents in the you-man’s face. “Ow! Little bastard!” The Not-Catdaddy drew his pistol and pointed it at the tiny black cat, who immediately ran toward the door. The door wouldn’t open. A bullet pinged off the door right by the cat’s head, and he looked to his right. The ducts were dangerous and EDI-ship didn’t like him running through them, but the tiny cat didn’t see that he had a choice. He leaped into the open space to the right of the door, and quickly made his way through the ductwork. When EDI-ship didn’t say anything or light up his passage, which she normally did when he went wandering, Ninja felt afraid and lonely. Not-Catdaddy bellowed with anger, and Ninja kept going down the ducting. He followed a trail of old bacon-smell toward a drop, and leaped to land on a small platform that marked the line between Decks 1 and 2. He was proud of that marker, left when he stole a piece of Other-Catdaddy’s breakfast a couple of months ago. It came in very handy right about now.

 _“Find that goddamn cat, and throw it out the fucking airlock!”_ Not-Catdaddy was livid with rage. _“Where’s some Medi-Gel?! Fuck, little shit tore my face up good!”_ Ninja paused for a moment and groomed himself for a minute before a loud thump on a bulkhead spurred him back to attention. In the dim light on the ducting, he saw his next target--another platform, and another one below that. He had his own special hiding place, where he liked to sit and watch Catdaddy when he was at work. The strange you-mans and Not-Catdaddy would never find him there, especially since Catdaddy never found him there.

But first, he had to take care of some rather urgent business. Ninja leaped across to another small platform, and wriggled his way through a crawlspace to another part of Deck 2. He poked his head out of an open access hatch, and saw strange boxes sitting there marked with a symbol that wasn’t Catdaddy’s. He slipped out of the access hatch, walked around one of the open boxes for a moment, then hopped in and parked his little butt over what looked like a good spot. When he finished, he quickly darted back into the access hatch and made his way up to his special hiding place.

  
  
  


A tearful Traynor stood before the inside entrance to the ship, fists clenched tighly and body shaking with rage--when she heard footsteps, she turned and saw Kaidan, Wrex, and Shepard approaching. She sputtered, “What the--I...YOU JUST FIRED ME!! You said that I was guilty of conduct unbecoming, and dereliction of duty, and...and…” angry tears ran down her face.

“Wait, Sam--I didn’t fire you.” Shepard held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture when Traynor started to protest that she only had time to get her toothbrush. “Your toothbrush is a Cision Pro Mark 4, which uses tiny mass-effect fields to break up plaque and massage the gums, and it costs six thousand credits. I know that, because you told me the day we met.”

“But how--” Traynor took a couple of deep breaths and closed her eyes. She unclenched her fists and let her breath out in a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll be okay. I’m sure you’ll tell me later.”

“I will. But right now, I need to know if there’s another way into the ship.”

“There’s an access hatch under this panel,” Traynor said. Shepard knelt down and removed the panel, and started to examine the lock.

“It’s locked from the outside,” Kaidan remarked. “A small mass effect field could manipulate the lock from the other side, but I don’t have the fine control we’d need--and neither do either of you,” he continued, looking at Shepard and Wrex. “Too bad Cas or Liara aren’t here,” he quipped.

“Ahem.” The three soldiers looked up to see Traynor holding up her toothbrush. She activated it, and the mass-effect generators on the brush lit up with an electric whir.

 

Ninja hunkered down in his special hiding space and watched the strange you-mans tear apart the Normandy’s CIC. Not-Catdaddy stood at the light-up place with a lady that the tiny cat decided was bad because of how she was hanging all over Not-Catdaddy and being mean to the other you-mans. One of the you-mans kicked the box he used across the CIC, spreading stink and cat pee and feces everywhere along with a stream of curses. Ninja felt a little satisfaction at what he’d done, but instead of showing off how proud he was at making life difficult for the bad you-mans, he stayed in the shadows and watched. He was good at watching. Not-Catdaddy grumbled and snapped at one of the strange you-mans, then talked to the Bad Lady before going toward the turbolift. Ninja decided that if he saw Bad Lady again, he’d make his dislike clear by pissing on her shoes.

“What’s that smell?” Ninja heard a familiar voice, and turned his head to see Other-Catdaddy, Grumpy Red, and somebody else that looked like Catdaddy crawling through his special hiding space.

“Sounds like a certain tiny cat’s been fighting his own battle with Cat 6,” the one who looked like Catdaddy whispered. "Remind me to get some real cream for him as a reward." Ninja waited for the three to get close, and sniffed. This was definitely Catdaddy.

 

Shepard heard a soft trill and looked down to see Ninja nosing  and rubbing up on him, tail up in the “I’m happy to see you” position. “Hey little guy,” he whispered. He skritched the cat behind the ears, and was answered with a headbonk. “So this is where you go when I’m at work, huh?” He smiled and gently shooed the cat back toward the niche next to the hatch release. “Gotta stay out of the way, little kitty. You've done enough for one day.” Kaidan also petted the cat, and Wrex eyed him for a moment before reaching over to skritch him as well.

Ninja retreated into the ducts, and Shepard hit the hatch release. The panel above their heads opened and a stairway extended, and the trio burst into the CIC with guns blazing. “Ha ha, I always wanted to fight here!” Wrex shouted gleefully as he nailed a merc with a point-blank round from his shotgun.

“You wanted to have a fight in my CIC?” Shepard asked right before charging a heavy trooper. The trooper’s hard-light shield shattered, and Shepard fired off a shotgun blast that left the trooper bloody on the floor.

“And it isn’t even my _birthday_! Ha ha!” The big Krogan celebrated his early birthday present by charging a heavy trooper of his own and nailing him in the head with the butt of his shotgun. The brief firefight ended with the help of a biotic explosion courtesy of Kaidan, and the trio hurried onto the turbolift.

  
  


Angels watched the battle play out in the Cargo Bay, invisible and silent. Some wanted to help the one they referred to as Elder Son, others wanted simply to separate the two and have them make peace--but this was a fight that they had to stay out of. Shepard and his clone had to settle this between themselves.

“Izzy…” Meshach whispered to his sister. “You don’t have to wa--”  


“No, Meshach--I have to do this.” A tear ran down the angel’s face, and she wiped it away. “I caused this. It’s only right that I see what I did, as punishment for my hubris.”  


“Izzy,” another angel whispered. “You had nothing to do with any of this. The hubris that led to this wasn't yours. You did what was necessary--and it was the right thing to do, we all agreed on that. You know this. Let them settle it.”  


Shepard tackled his doppelganger, punched him in the face twice, and they rolled to the edge of the cargo bay. They hung there, suspended, and the clone looked over at Shepard.

“Look at you! What makes you so special?  Why you, and not me?!” The clone looked on with rage as Kaidan and James made a human chain to grab Shepard. He looked up toward “Brooks”, who looked down at the deck and then walked away. The clone’s face fell when he watched her retreat.

“Don’t leave anyone behind,” Dean said from the barrier at the end of the cargo bay. He and Sam started to make their own chain to rescue the clone, when Shepard put up a hand and reached for the doppelganger.

“Take my hand,” he said calmly.

“And then what?” the clone snapped.

“And then you live.” Shepard reached closer to the clone.

The clone looked up at Shepard. “For what?” he asked. He let go in a last act of defiance, deliberately pulling his hand away when Shepard lunged for him and their fingertips brushed.

Shepard watched the clone fall, and averted his gaze right before he would have impacted the side of a building. He slowly stood and turned to go back into the cargo bay. Garrus started to say something, but Shepard looked at him and sadly shook his head. Sam and Garrus both gave Shepard a gentle pat on the shoulders and nodded.

  
  
  


He watched the Normandy speeding away as he fell, and for a brief instant felt some measure of satisfaction. He wasn’t going to rot in some Alliance prison, he was going to go out on his own--

  
The world went white. A keening hum filled his ears, and he felt someone catch him. _I’m sorry son_ , he heard right before he drifted into unconsciousness. _I can’t let you throw your life away..._


	21. Counterparts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angels make their first move. Shepard mourns the brother he lost the chance to have.

He dreamed of falling, letting go and pushing away, plummeting away from _him_ and toward an end on his own terms. It would be all over soon.

_I’m sorry, son. I can’t let you throw your life away…_

The vision of the ship that should have been his-- _was_ his--vanished in a bright white light. He opened his eyes and saw stars.

Not stars. A ceiling with a starscape painted on it.

When he sat up and looked around, he noticed that he was in a bed--an actual bed--and stripped to his skivvies. A light grey shirt and casual trousers were neatly folded atop an old-style wooden dresser, with a pair of slip-on shoes next to them. A small pitcher of ice water and a glass sat next to a small lamp on a night table by the right side of the bed. The room itself was about the size of the captain’s cabin on the Normandy. The carpeting was a deep charcoal-grey colour, and plush. He walked around the room to look in on the bathroom, its rain-head shower tiled in muted greys and browns, and clean towels hung up on a warm towel bar. A small selection of toiletries and a razor were arrayed on a small shelf over the sink.

He got up and walked over to the dresser, where he picked up the shirt and held it up. It was non-descript, the sleeves elbow-length. He shrugged and put it on--it fit perfectly, just loose enough. He put the trousers on, then took the shoes and plopped them on the floor before sliding his feet into them.

Comfortable. He couldn’t get the word out of his head. The room and bathroom with their tasteful decor, the bed, the clothes. Everything here was designed for comfort. His comfort, from the looks of it. He stalked to the bedroom door and opened it, half-expecting to see Alliance colours and armed guards staring him down from behind a force field. Instead, he walked out into a fully-furnished apartment.

A bookshelf set into one wall of the apartment was fully stocked with datapads and old-style paper books. A couple of landscape paintings festooned another wall leading into a dining area containing a tasteful metal-and-glass dinette set with mid-back chairs, and instead of carpet the living room area had a hardwood floor. The far wall had a fireplace set into it, faced with stone and brick.

A brunette woman with olive skin sat in a slightly overstuffed chair next to the fireplace, sipping from something in a glass. She was dressed casually, in a long-sleeved dun-coloured shirt and overalls like colonists wore, and a pitcher of whatever she was sipping sat on the table next to her along with an empty glass. A few beads of moisture ran down the side of the pitcher, and slices of something floated in the liquid.

“Hello?” He tentatively took a step from the bedroom area as he said it. The woman smiled at him and beckoned him over to sit in another slightly overstuffed chair on the other side of the table.

“Come on in--this is your place, after all.” Her green eyes sparkled, and she indicated the chair. “Did you sleep okay?” He slowly walked toward the chair and carefully sat down in it after poking at the cushions. “Don’t worry, it won’t bite.” The strange woman chuckled. “Care for some iced tea?” He started to shake his head, then changed his mind and slowly nodded. The woman poured some tea in a glass and handed it to him. He sniffed at it, expecting to detect some sort of toxin, and smelled something that he couldn’t identify. He took a tiny sip, and tasted something tart and mildly sweet under the tannins of the tea.

“What’s in it?” he asked.

“Lemon and honey. You’ve never had lemon or honey before?”

He shook his head in response to her question, and took another sip. He rolled the tea around on his tongue, taking in the flavour. He tasted something sweet, and more of the lemon. He swallowed, and took another drink.

“Do you like it?” the strange woman asked.

He thought about it for a moment, then drained his glass and nodded while stifling a small burp. “Yes.” She offered the pitcher, and when he nodded she smiled and filled his glass. “Ummm….thanks. Where am I?”

The woman took another sip from her tea. “You may not believe me if I tell you--but to answer your obvious question, no, this is not an Alliance holding facility. Not by even the remotest stretch of the imagination.” She let out a half-chuckle and looked at him. “You’re in Heaven. Alive, but still in Heaven.”

“Heaven.” He blinked uncomprehendingly. “You expect me to believe that? Seriously?”

The woman nodded. “Seriously.” She stood and set her glass down on the table. “My name is Israfel, and I am an Angel of the Lord.” To punctuate her statement, Her eyes began to glow slightly and the shadow of a magnificent set of wings spread out on the wall behind her. “I’m the one who caught you when you fell.”

“You’re shitting me.” He set down his glass. “I’m dead. I died because I refused to let _him_ make me a prisoner.”

Israfel shook her head. “He wasn’t going to make you a prisoner, son--and you didn’t die. I caught you because I couldn’t let you throw your life away over a broken heart.” She looked up at him. “I was there. I saw the look on your face when that woman--”

He caught a dismissive tone in the woman's voice, and glared at her. “She has a name,” he snapped. “Use it.” He clenched his jaw and stood to face the strange woman who called herself an Angel, and a crackle of static washed over him. He felt his eyes stinging and a tightness in his chest at the memory of the woman who rescued him from the tank leaving him behind like yet another used-up tool.

“When Rasa--that is her real name--abandoned you.” Israfel set her jaw and fought back another sigh. “Son,” she said softly, reaching up and taking his hands in hers. She stood to face him. “We--I and the other angels--searched for you since the moment we found out about your existence. Then the war came, and...well, we still looked, but still couldn’t find your hiding place. Rasa hid you very well--and to hide you even from our Consensus is no small feat. It wasn’t until you made your move against your brother--”

His face darkened. “He’s not my brother,” he spat. “He’s a useless alien-loving was--” He stopped when Israfel firmed up her grip a bit and fixed him with a look.

“He’s gotten the Krogan and the Turians and the Salarians to work together,” she said quietly. Her voice was as firm as her grip on his hands. “He singlehandedly ended the war between the Geth and the Quarians, talked the Batarians into ending their petty one-sided feud with Humanity, and he got the three biggest merc bands in the galaxy--criminals, all of them--coordinating with each other for the good of the galaxy. That’s hardly useless or a waste.” Israfel reached up with one hand and quickly wiped away a tear from his face. “You and he also share genetic material from the same parents, and my people don’t make distinctions between what womb spawns a being. A mortal life is a mortal life. As far as we’re concerned--as far as _I_ am concerned--Stannis is your brother.”

"No!" Static crackled over him as his barrier reflexively came up. “I am Stannis,” he bellowed as hot tears started to roll down his cheeks. “I am Stannis Michael Shepard! Me! Not him! Me!” He took several deep breaths, eyebrows knitting and mouth opening and closing as he looked around the room with wide eyes, then collapsed to his knees and started to cry. “It was all supposed to be mine,” he sobbed, letting go of Israfel. “The Normandy, the salvation of humanity...it was mine…”

“No son,” Israfel said, her voice soft and caring as she knelt before him to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” she said, gently cupping his chin. “Look at me.” He looked up, and saw the angel looking at him with compassion in her eyes. “Your life was not your own, son. Your name was not your own. They were both forced on you by someone who saw you only as a means to her own end.” She sighed and leaned over to kiss him on the top of the head. “Son, you deserve your own name and your own life. That’s why I saved you, brought you here.” She shifted to a sitting position and held her arms out. “C’mere,” she whispered, embracing him when he crawled into her arms and continued sobbing. “My dear boy, Rasa may have rejected you, but know that you are still very much loved and very much wanted.”

“I...I...why? Why does he have everything and I don’t? Why is he…” He wept in the angel’s arms as she held him and rocked him back and forth on the floor. “Why….?”

“The only thing Stannis has that you don’t have is perspective, and the wisdom and understanding that come with it.” Israfel looked up and nodded slightly as a door opened in the bookcase-wall and another angel, a wiry blonde man with deep-set grey eyes and wearing Alliance fatigues, came through with a serving tray. She nodded at the angel in acknowledgement, giving him a smile as he set the tray on the dining table before walking over to the two of them.

“This is our rescued child, eh? How’s he doing?” the angel whispered. The child looked up and saw the Alliance uniform the angel was wearing, and stiffened. Israfel tightened her embrace slightly, and the new angel held up his hands. “Whoa, relax! I’m not your enemy.” He stuck out a hand. “My name’s Camael--I and my vessel serve as an engineer’s mate on the Orizaba. It’s an honour to meet you, truly.” The child tentatively reached out and took Camael’s hand, and the angel gave him a just-firm handshake. “I need to get back on duty--I was just here to give my vessel some rack time, and decided to bring you something to eat on the way out.” The angel stood, then vanished with the sound of rushing wings.

“Holy…!” The child’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He looked up at Israfel, who smiled and nodded.

“I told you--this is Heaven, and I am an angel. So’s Camael.” She pointed over to the table. “There’s food on the table for you, if you want it. I promise, it’s all real.” The child rolled out of Israfel’s arms and sat on the floor for a moment with his hands on his knees, dumbfounded. The angel stood and reached down to help the child up. “Look, son...I realise that this is a lot to take in, bu--”

“Why do you call me that?” The child raised an eyebrow.

“Call you what? Son?”

The child nodded, and Israfel sighed heavily. “I was going to wait until later to tell you this,” she said, indicating the chair by the fireplace. When he sat in the chair, Israfel bit her lip for a moment as she mulled over the words she wanted to use. “Don’t let the body fool you...but I’m your father.”

 

Shepard sat sullenly on the couch in his quarters, tumbler of whisky in his hand. Ninja sat purring on the back of the couch, nuzzling and nosing him in exchange for occasional skritches under the chin and behind the ears. The door opened to admit Kaidan, and the little black cat let out a high-pitched “mew!” before going back to trying to comfort Shepard.

“Still thinking about what happened?” Kaidan asked. Shepard nodded at him, and took another drink from his tumbler before leaning forward and refilling it from the bottle on the table. “Stannis,” Kaidan said quietly as he sat down on the couch next to him, “You did what you could--you even tried to save him in the end, though I don’t think he deserved it.” Kaidan looked out the window and then back at Shepard. “I mean, he tried to kill you.”

“Yeah,” Shepard said quietly. “He did.” He looked into the tumbler of whisky and set it down on the coffee table in front of him, then sat back. Ninja stood and stretched, then hopped down off the back of the couch to curl up in Shepard’s lap. Shepard petted the little cat, who purred and gently kneaded his person’s right leg with velveted paws. “But I still saw something in him worth saving.” He sighed deeply and shifted. The cat got up and moved to perch between Shepard and Kaidan, and let out another tiny meow. “When I was little, I told my mom that I wanted a brother. Somebody that I could call family, that wasn’t Mom or Dad. I could teach him everything I knew, help him stay out of trouble...be there to help him fend off people that wanted to beat him up or take advantage of him.” He sighed again and wiped away a tear. “He deserved a chance, Kaidan.” Shepard looked up at his lover. “He...so what if he was a clone,” he said in a voice that was just close to breaking. “He was still a _person_. He still deserved a chance at some kind of life.”

Kaidan looked out the skylight at the stars for a moment, then back at Shepard. “You’re thinking of him as the brother you could have had?” Shepard nodded sadly and rubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t know,” Kaidan remarked. “All I can think of is how he tried to kill us--kill _you_ \--and take your life over, just so he could ruin everything you’ve done.”

“I chalk that up to Maya Brooks, or Hope Lillium, or whatever her real name is.” Shepard sighed and leaned in toward Kaidan, whisky strong on his breath. “You can ask me about this later, Kaidan, and I’ll say the same thing sober that I’m saying now--that clone was a child in a grown man’s body. And I can’t--I won’t--kill a child just because his teacher told him to do bad things.”

 

“...my father. You? Are my father.” the child looked at Israfel as if she had just told him she was Harbinger itself.

Israfel nodded. “Yes.” She sat down in the free chair. “The Alliance Military’s genetic database says something different, of course. But what it doesn’t say is that at the time of his conception, Stannis Shepard’s--and by extension, your--human father was the companion of an angel--me, specifically.” She rubbed at the back of her neck nervously. “It’s a long story. But the highlight reel goes like this: your human mother said no when I asked her to be my companion--so I went to your father and asked him. And he said yes.”

“Why did you ask?” the child queried.

“Because those are the rules;” Israfel shrugged. “an angel can’t inhabit a vessel--I prefer to call them companions--without their express consent. And we need to inhabit a vessel in order to walk among mortals. Shit, I’d have asked even if it wasn’t the rules.”

“No, I mean, _why_ did you ask?”

“Oh--I told them the same thing: I wanted to have a child. I wanted to have something--someone--in this world that I could point to and say "You see that person right there? I made that. They're mine. They're good."” She shrugged again. “Vague, yes--but still the truth. Your mother scoffed and said that she wasn’t the virgin I was looking for. Your human father, though--I think he took it as little more than a subconscious expression of his love for your mother--so he said yes. He was a little surprised when he realized I wasn’t a figment of his imagination.”

The child leaned forward a bit and tilted his head to the side slightly. “So...what did he do?”

“Asked me a shitload of questions. And I answered all of them. We became friends. I learned far more from him than he ever did from me--and we bonded over our love of your mother.” Israfel smiled. “You are a lot like him, you know.” She looked over at the fireplace. “He ended the relationship with your mother before Stannis was born. He didn't want to see her career ended after he was promoted above her...and he felt that he couldn't be the husband that she needed, or the father that your brother deserved.” The angel sighed sadly. “It broke her heart, and mine, and I left him.” The angel sighed deeply. "And no, I wasn't allowed to be a part of your brother's life--nor were any other angels. Everything that Stannis Shepard is, all that he's become, is the product of a 100% human upbringing."

“So...where is Shep--my human father?”

Israfel pursed her lips for a moment before continuing. “I work for him--he doesn’t know it though, because I walled off his memories of me on the way out.” She stared at her son for a moment, then got up from her chair. “You need to eat; you're looking quite pale. Come on, let’s get you some food.” The child slowly stood and followed Israfel to the dining table. The tray had several thick sandwiches on it, cut into triangles, along with a large pitcher of what looked like more iced tea and two glasses. A bowl contained an assortment of fresh fruit.

“Umm…” the child was at a loss for words at the spread. “Do angels eat?” He looked quizzically at his hostess.

“We can, but we don’t really need to, and it takes a little concentration for angels to taste food the way mortals do. Mostly we eat for the benefit of our companions. Same with sleep, bathing, and the like. Since our vessels are our companions, we like to show them some gratitude by caring for their basic needs.” Israfel sat and took an orange from the bowl, and started to peel it with her fingernails. “Anyway. You’ve got a kitchen here that you can use to make your own food. You’ll run into some other angels--your aunts and uncles, for lack of a better term--but if you don’t want to cook with them, we do have recipe books you can use.” She paused. “You’ve got a million questions, don’t you?” When her son nodded, Israfel continued, “go ahead and ask. I’ll answer as much as I can--though some questions will require fairly long and involved answers.”

“How am I in Heaven if I’m not dead?” The child took a sandwich and bit into it. The filling was creamy, green, and buttery. The bread was soft, with a little crunch in the crust where he bit into it. He pulled out a thin ring of something crisp and sweetly pungent, and sniffed at it. “What is this?” he asked, holding it up.

“Onion--Vidalia, I believe. The green stuff is avocado. We weren’t sure what Rasa had given you to eat that wasn’t field rations--so we’ve given you a variety of foods. That way you can form your own tastes. And to vaguely answer your first question: Your angelic side makes you quite unique. The actual answer is something that I think is best discovered on your own.” Israfel separated out a plump segment of orange and offered it to her dining companion. “Here, try this.”

“I’ve actually had an orange before.” He popped the segment into his mouth and chewed. It was sweet and juicy, with a touch of bitterness from the pulp. “It was the first thing I had to eat after…” He slowly stopped chewing and slowly swallowed, then took all of the oranges out of the bowl and pushed them toward Israfel. “Take them,” he said, voice breaking. “Please. Get them out of here. I don’t want to see them anymore.”

“Bring up bad memories?” The child nodded. Israfel leaned forward and kissed her son on the forehead, then took the oranges and set them aside. “I understand. Memories are a powerful contributor toward dietary likes and dislikes. Adileh--my companion--loves lamb kidneys, because they remind her of her mother. But she hates pickled cabbage, because it reminds her of the raiders that razed her village when she was a child.”

“When was that?” the child ate the piece of onion. It was strong and a little sweet-hot on his tongue, but the heat was cooled by another bite of the creamy green filling. The avocado melted over his tongue like butter, carrying a hint of tartness and a little salt with it.

“A very, _very_ long time ago.” Israfel sighed, and an alarm beeped on her Omni-Tool. “Shit--I’ve got another thirty minutes, and then I have to get into uniform and go back on-duty.” She got up from the table. “You can bring that sandwich with you if you like.” She walked over toward the bookcase and pulled a bookend. “You don’t have to open the door like this--it’s keyed to your Omni-Tool--but I’m strange and find the idea of a secret passage to be amusing.” She grinned and winked as the door swung open into a short hallway. “The door lock is keyed to Omni-Tools for us, but it’ll just open for you because it's keyed to your genetic code. We’ll knock before coming in, though. That apartment is your private space; we kinda want to respect it.”

 

Kaidan held Shepard close and breathed a sigh into his hair. Shepard had sobered up fairly quickly thanks to his biotic metabolism, and had repeated what he’d said while drunk--his clone was just a child who had a bad teacher, and didn’t deserve to die. “You never cease to amaze me Stannis,” Kaidan whispered. “You try to save everyone, even the ones that don’t want saving.”

“I lost a brother that I never knew I had,” Shepard replied sleepily. “I should have done some deeper digging--maybe I’d have found him before she did.” He rolled over on his back and looked up at Kaidan. “Maybe I’d have been able…”

“Stannis,” Kaidan said, looking down at his lover. “You know what would have happened--the Alliance would have terminated him in the tank, or imprisoned him and probably charged you with illegal human cloning or something, in addition to all the other shit they were going to hang on you before the Reapers showed up. Could you have lived with that on your conscience?”

“If it meant saving him from falling into the hands of an extremist, then yes. I could have lived with it. Not being born at all would have been better for him than being born and used to try derailing the war effort.” Shepard sighed deeply and rolled back toward Kaidan’s embrace. “Wherever he is...I just hope that he’s found some measure of peace.”

 

“OK,” Israfel said, “You’ve seen the kitchen, the Consensus chamber, and the War Room. Brace yourself--you’re about to see the most incredible thing here.” She keyed the lock on the last door. “Your brother barely saw a fraction of it when he was here--and he never saw the War Room, so you're one up on him.”

“Wait--you have something here more incredible than the War Room?” The child raised both eyebrows. His mind reeled at the openness and candor shown to him by his hosts. “That auto-updating map was amazing...and the intelligence network you have...why doesn’t the Alliance know about it?”

“Oh, this is much more incredible. It’ll also give you some idea how long we’ve been here--and to answer your question, the Alliance doesn't know about it because we won't tell them about it. We just funnel information to them whenever we’re able to, through people that Cadfael has on the inside.” Israfel slid the door aside, and walked in. The child walked in behind her, and his jaw dropped. He and Israfel were on a platform, looking out over what looked like a gigantic spoked wheel. The ceiling of the room looked like the top of a verdant forest canopy, a sun shining high overhead.

“Welcome to the Master Library. We started it when we arrived from the other world, right before the end of a cycle. Many cycles’ worth of art, literature, philosophy, science, and pretty much everything else we could cram into this ever-expanding space is here. Catalogued, preserved, translated, and--God willing--ready to share with the mortals of this cycle if we all win.” She pointed down to one of the spokes on the wheel. “That hall right there is where you’ll find the Nazara Dominion, if you want to know more about the race that got melted down to make Sovereign.” She pointed at another spoke. “And that right there is the hall where you’ll find everything you ever wanted to know about the Prothean Empire. I know of at least one archaeologist who will explode with glee if she gets the chance to look through it.”

The child started counting spokes. The hub of the wheel contained tables arrayed in a circle, with what looked like an information desk in the middle. Angels wearing visors and dressed in research smocks walked from hall to hall, carrying books and things that he couldn’t identify when they weren’t manning the information desk. The door to each spoke on the wheel was brightly lit, except for the last one, which was only lit halfway. He pointed to it. “Which hall is that one?”

“That would be the hall for this cycle. It’s not complete yet; hopefully it’ll be the last hall, and we’ll be able to continue adding stuff to it rather than having to create a new one.” Israfel touched a button, and a gate lit up around them. The platform that they were standing on began a slow descent to the floor of the library. “I should give you a heads-up; this library is open to all in Heaven. If a soul finds their way here and wants to browse, we let them.” She smiled. “But I promise, they’re all harmless and many of them can be very fun to talk to--Richard Feynman, the human physicist? He tells some of the best stories. And there’s a philosopher of the Nchak!l’a who makes some of the most fascinating cocktails I’ve ever experienced.” The platform reached the bottom, and Israfel opened the gate. “And here we are.”

“How many cycles do you have stored in this library?”

“Forty complete cycles. This cycle is the forty-first since we arrived.” Israfel looked around and sighed. “We’ve been here a very long time.” She tapped a button on her Omni-Tool, and the child’s Omni-Tool lit up. “Here. I’ve updated your Omni-Tool to translate Enochian. Actually, here…” She reached up and touched her son on the forehead with the first two fingers of her right hand. “There. You may feel a little lightheaded--but you're fluent in Enochian now.” She looked around the library for a long moment, then indicated the hall directly opposite the half-filled hall for the current cycle. “I recommend taking a look down that hall, by the way.”

“Why that one?” The child asked.

“That’s the cycle where the galaxy damn near pulled it off.” Israfel’s voice was heavy with sadness. “I haven’t gone down to the far end of that hall much--it’s...well, you’ll see for yourself.” She reached out and gave the child’s hand a squeeze. “I really do need to go, son. We’ll talk later. And I promise that when I come back I’ll answer more questions. I think that Cadfael would also like to have you visit him again in the War Room.”

 

Admiral Hackett looked up from Shepard’s report about the attempt on his life, and looked out at the stars for several long moments before reading through the remainder of the report. He sighed deeply when he got to the end and read:

> _On a personal note: My clone was, emotionally speaking, a child in the body of an adult. No amount of neural implants can substitute for a lifetime of experience and understanding, nor can they give someone the ability to deal with the most visceral of human emotions such as love, anger, or desire. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't thinking of my clone as the brother that I'd always wanted. I would be lying even more if I said that I'm not grieving his decision to throw his life away rather than allow me the chance to help him find a life of meaning that he could call his own. He deserved that much, at the very least, and I would have fought to see him allowed a place on the Normandy if he still wanted it. In all honesty, I would have asked Admiral Shepard to strongly consider adopting him so that he would at least have a family (cf. Report on Urdnot Grunt for precedent, albeit Krogan)._
> 
> _Clone or no, the man who was given my name by "Maya Brooks" was a person; he deserved the same chance that every other person gets to make their own decisions in life, rather than having a name and a set of decisions forced on him by a deluded fanatic who just wants to see the galaxy burn for the sake of Human dominance, however brief that dominance would have been before the Reapers eventual victory (cf. Dr. T'soni's interviews with Javik for a "recent" example of how one race dominating all others would turn out)._

then set the datapad aside and sat back in his chair to stare at a spot on the desk for a few minutes. Hackett sat up, pulled up a keyboard at his desk and started to type a letter.

_Hannah,_

_I should have sent this message two years ago, after Alchera. I'm sorry that I didn't. I'm...I'm sorry. At least now, I can say "fuck regs" without worrying about somebody getting their nose out of joint over it._

_I’m attaching Stannis’ latest report about the incident on the Citadel--you deserve to see this report, more so than any other report that you've gotten from him._

He reached out to the picture on his desktop of Hannah and Stannis Shepard at the latter’s graduation from N7 training. He smiled for a moment, then finished typing.

_I miss you. Let's talk sometime--not as flag officers, but as two people who love their son._

_Yours always,  
Steven_

“Is this a bad time, sir?” Hackett looked over his shoulder to see his aide-de-camp standing in the doorway. “I can go find some reports to go through or vet the comm logs,” she said.

The admiral stood and rubbed his hand over his face for a moment. He bent down to stab the “send” key and straightened up. “I’m going to go to bed, Lieutenant. Collate the latest combat reports, send a request to Commander Shepard for an update on his Irregulars--I especially want to see the latest medical reports on that biotic he’s got--so that I have that when I wake up. After that...you’re free.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, sir?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll be fine, Adileh.” He walked down the steps to the sleeping area of his cabin. “Thank you. Have a good night.”

“Aye aye, Admiral.” Adileh saluted, and walked out to go to her own quarters. When the door shut behind her, she paused for a moment and looked back over her shoulder, eyes glowing brightly. “Good night old friend,” she whispered. “May your sons make you proud.”


	22. Lock and Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Angels get caught flat-footed, and Castiel strikes out on his own after the Winchesters are taken by Cerberus.

**Somewhere in the Attican Traverse**

Sam awoke in a drugged haze. He heard voices, and tried to focus on them through what felt like a huge wad of cotton stuffed into his head. His tongue felt heavy and thick, like he’d had too much to drink the night before, and he found it hard to move his arms and legs. The hunter opened his eyes partway to see a man in a grey business suit standing there talking to a blonde woman in a medical smock.

“I was told to expect three,” the man said in a clipped antipodean accent. “Why do we only have two?”

“The biotic escaped, according to the extraction team.” The woman nodded over to Sam. “The brothers stayed behind to provide cover, apparently.”

“A pity. I was looking forward to studying him. Prep this one for surgery.” The suited man looked down at Sam, studying him intently.

“How far do we want to go, sir?”

“He likely won’t see combat,” the man in the suit said, looking over at the doctor. “Give him these muscular enhancements and neural implants to enhance his eye-hand coordination and reaction time.” He typed some things on his Omni-Tool, then downloaded it to a datapad, which he gave to the doctor. “Let’s leave the optical implants out and give him a greybox instead. We’ll save the full neural suite for the older brother, then let the Phantom project have him after we’ve run all of the physical tests at Sanctuary.”

“Yes sir.”

Sam mumbled something incoherent, and the man in the suit looked down at him with steel-grey eyes. “Good morning, Sam. So good of you to join us.” Sam grunted and strained against the restraints that held him down to the bed, and the man in the suit looked back at the doctor. “Re-sedate him and get him prepped for surgery. I’ll be departing with his brother within the hour--I expect a full report by the time I leave.”

“Yes, Mr. Lawson.”

A masked medic leaned over Sam with a needle in their hand. Sam felt a poke at the side of his neck, and his world went black.

 

**SSV Normandy**

_Castiel!_

Castiel sat bolt upright on the observation lounge banquette at the sound of Sam's voice. He looked around for his friend, and opened his mouth to speak when he heard Sam speak again.

_Castiel, I know you can hear me. I also know that you know our people are here--the Prayer Line is supposed to be emergencies-only, but I don’t have another way to contact you and I don’t have a lot of time. Cerberus is shuttling us around to various bases. They’ve planted a bunch of Reaper-tech stuff into the Winchesters. I can save Sam...but I fear Dean may be lost, and it’s my fault. The voice started to fade, but renewed itself again. Castiel, please forgive me.... The next time you see me, we--shit, gotta go. Amen._

Castiel looked up at the observation lounge camera right as the message ended. “EDI?”

“Your bio-scans are reading normally now Castiel,” the AI answered. “How are you feeling?”

He ignored the question. “Are you able to monitor some frequencies and energy wavelengths for me without alerting anyone else on the ship?” he asked. He stood and turned to fully face the camera. He was grieving when he first returned to the Normandy, but now he felt himself burning with righteous fury and purpose that manifested in the occasional ripple of static over his body.

“It will take some work to reconfigure a couple of my subroutines, but I believe I can do it. I detect a surge in your biotics--as your crewmate, I should let you know that Doctor Chakwas will want to examine you to make sure that you’re ready to start using them again.”

The angel tapped his Omni-Tool. “I just sent you the frequencies to monitor.” He paced to the window and stood at parade rest, watching the stars. “How long will the reconfiguring take?” he asked.

“One hour at most. I will let you know when I’m done.” EDI paused for a moment before asking her original question again. “Shall I take this to mean that you are feeling physically better now that you have had seven days’ worth of your full caloric intake and gotten sleep?”

Castiel nodded slightly. “Physically, yes.” He closed his eyes and relaxed, letting the dark energy flow through him. When he opened his eyes, he saw the blue-black outline of Jimmy reflected in the glass like a dark-energy negative image.

 _“Are you sure you want to do this?”_ Jimmy asked. When the angel nodded, his vessel shrugged a bit. _“I just want you to know that I think this is a bad idea--but you’re in charge.”_

Castiel felt his biotic wings stretch out behind him, and tasted the tang of ozone as static popped and crackled over his body. He inhaled deeply and, after a few seconds, he snapped off his aura. “I’ll be fine, EDI.” He picked up the empty mess tray from the table. “I’ll be just fine,” he said as he walked out of the lounge, using his biotics to make the tray jump and roll before him like a child’s toy.

 

**Heaven**

“Cadfael? Something just pinged on the map.” The child pointed to a system on the map that was highlighted in red and blue, and the angel next to him looked. “Right there. That system was dark before.”

“Hmm?” The angel--a barrel-chested, lantern-jawed, blue-eyed bear of a man dressed in black Alliance-style fatigues and sporting a copper-hued crewcut and short beard--raised his bushy eyebrows and took a closer look. “Huh. That ping marks a Prayer. We don’t have anyone stationed in that system, though.” He pulled up a hard-light keyboard and punched in a few commands. “Let me see if I can pick up the message, or at least the tail-end of it.”

A snippet of message came up, with a couple of lines of Enochian blinking over the system:

_...I can save Sam...but I fear that Dean may be lost to Cerberus, and it’s my fault. Castiel, please forgive me…._

“Fuck…” The celestial being punched in a quick message and hit SEND.

The child looked quizzically at his uncle. “That sounded like Sam Winchester.”

“That’s because it is Sam Winchester--actually it’s an angel in Sam’s body,” Cadfael replied. “That frequency is the auditory range of angels--the Prayer frequency, specifically. Our vessels sometimes use it for emergency messa--”

Meshach appeared in the war room in a rush of wings. Sweat and grime streaked his face. “Got your 911 call in the middle of a firefight, Cadfael,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Azrael just sent a message to Castiel over the Prayer Line--from what little we got, Cerberus has the Winchesters.” Cadfael nodded his head toward the child. “I’d have missed it entirely if it weren’t for our sharp-eyed nephew.”

“A very good catch, nephew.” Meshach smiled at the child, “You really do need to take a name by the way,” he quipped. The angelic mercenary rubbed his forehead for a moment. “And we need to know what Castiel is up to. Do you have a team that can scout that location?” Cadfael nodded, and Meshach shrugged his left shoulder a few times to scratch an itch under his armour. “I’ll let you get to it then.” He sighed, “And I’ll have to let Izzy know what happened.”

“Shouldn’t we try to rescue them?” The child asked. “I mean, shouldn’t the Winchesters be with the Normandy?” After a few seconds, he added “For that matter, how did Sam Winchester ever consent to another angel be--”

“Yes and no”, Meshach explained to him. “But not necessarily in that order--and I honestly don’t think any of us can really answer your last question. Sorry.” He looked back to the map and leaned over the table. “If we go storming every Cerberus base in the galaxy to try finding the Winchesters, that exposes us--which we don’t want--and it also risks Cerberus up and killing them. It more than likely will get the Reapers to increase the pace of the invasion, which will...well, it won’t be pleasant.” The angel scratched his stubbled chin and stifled a sigh. “But yes, they should be with the Normandy. If Cerberus has them, and if we didn’t get wind of it until now, it brings up a very unpleasant possibility.”

“And that is?”

“We’ve got a mole,” Cadfael said. The burly angel cracked his knuckles. “Want me to start checking on our people in Intel?”

“Make some subtle inquiries,” the child cut in. “That’s what I’d do--if our people are going to be as under-the-radar as possible, then it would be smart to not show our hand when investigating. If there’s a mole, then they’re probably indoctrinated. From what I know of indoctrination, it should become apparent after a few conversations as long as the right questions are asked.” The room fell silent. Two angels on the other side of the map had looked up and were watching the child intently. Meshach and Cadfael stood there with arms crossed and smiles on their faces. “What?”

Meshach grinned and clapped the child on the shoulder. “Spoken like a man with vision,” he exclaimed. “You are indeed a Shepard. And on that note, I’ve got to get back to helping fight back a Reaper raiding force outside of Seattle.” The angel vanished in a rush of wings.

 

**Cerberus base  
Somewhere in the Attican Traverse**

Sam woke up on a bunk in a just-over-dimly-lit room. He sat up and looked around after letting his eyes adjust to what little light was there, then swung his legs around to sit on the edge of the bunk. He felt a slight ache in his legs and down his back and arms, combined with a dully throbbing headache.

“Ow. Damn.” Sam gingerly stretched and twisted his torso a bit, trying to work out what felt like stubborn kinks in his back muscles and arms. He stood up and walked to the mirror. Part of his head was shaved on the right side, and he could see faint lines marking where his head had been cut open and then re-closed. “What the fuck…?” He reached out and put a hand on the mirror, and blinked when the image started to waver and he saw himself with a full head of hair.

“We don’t have a lot of time, so I’ll make this quick.” Sam jumped back from the mirror when the image spoke to him in his own voice, and collapsed at a sudden stabbing pain in his skull. The image winced and knitted its brow, and the pain subsided. Sam slowly got to his feet and gaped at his reflection, which put a finger to its--his--lips and lowered a hand to indicate that he should keep his voice down.

“Wha…?”

“I’m NOT Lucifer,” The reflection said quickly, putting up its hands in a placatory gesture. “I’m the one who brought you to this world, and I’m the one who’s busting her ass to keep you from becoming indoctrinated before we can get those Cerberus implants out of you.” Before Sam could say anything in response, the reflection put a finger to its lips. “Somebody’s coming. I’m going to go silent--but listen. If you want me to leave so you can take your chances with all that repurposed Reapercrap, I swear that I’ll go without question. All I ask is to plead my case first.”

Sam nodded slightly, and the image in the mirror went back to his half-bald head.

The door to Sam’s cell opened, and a pair of doctors walked in. “Good morning, Sam.” One of the doctors said. She was a willowy woman with bobbed platinum-blonde hair and a severe heart-shaped face, and her smock clearly bore the Cerberus logo. Two armed troopers walked in and stood on either side of the door, sidearms at the ready. “My assistant and I are going to run some tests on your implants. Your cooperation is required,” she said, harshly clipping her syllables like a schoolteacher giving a directive to a student.

“Bite me,” Sam snapped defiantly. “I don’t know what you’ve put in me and why, but I’m not going to become some Cerberus drone!” He quickly leaped to the troopers and bashed their heads together in a blur of motion, dropping them to the floor in a heap with their helmets caved in at the point of impact. Before the hunter could get out the door of his cell, he spasmed and shuddered as fire coursed through his muscles. He collapsed on the floor, and rolled over before spasming again, bellowing in agony as the doctor’s silent assistant tapped a button on his Omni-Tool.

“That was not a request, Mr. Winchester.” The doctor’s jaw was firmly set, and her dark eyes flashed with ire. “You will cooperate, whether you like it or not.” She nodded to her assistant. “Shut him down,” she said. “We’ve got enough data for today.” She stepped over the bodies of the dead troopers and walked out. Two more troopers came in and dragged their fellows out of the room. The assistant tapped another button on his Omni-Tool, and the world went dark.

 

**SSV Normandy**

“Liara.”

The asari archaeologist turned and leapt back in surprise when she saw Castiel standing before her, eyes blazing blue-black flame and static rippling over spread wings. “Castiel, what…”

“You and Sam are close friends--so I’m choosing to trust you. I need to trust EDI too, because she has eyes all over the ship.” He cast a knowing look over his shoulder at the camera in the corner of Liara’s quarters. He dimmed his aura and walked over to put a hand on Liara’s shoulder. “Liara, I’m going to go find the Winchesters. And if I can find my brothers, I’m going to try to convince them to join us.”

Liara bit her lip for a moment, blue eyes wide. Castiel’s touch was warm, and she felt electricity rush through her body. “Castiel…” She protested. “You can’t kill every Cerberus operative in the galaxy--your biotics are considerable, but...” Darkness started to eat away at her vision in tiny bits, and her left arm started to shake. “Cas, please…” Castiel removed his hand from the archaeologist’s shoulder when he noticed her pained expression, and Liara sat down and immediately started massaging the pins-and-needles feeling from her arm and shoulder. “You’ll burn yourself out. You’ve expended yourself several times already, and we don’t know if your biotics are stable enough for sustained usage even with your increased caloric intake and the supplemental eezo that we’ve been able to requisition for you.”

Castiel set his jaw. “I’ll take that chance,” he replied. “I won’t rest until Sam and Dean are out of Cerberus’ hands.” He turned and walked toward the door, then stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “At least wait until I’ve left to tell Stannis, please.” He vanished in a rush of wings and the briefest whiff of ozone. Liara closed her eyes and let out a heavy exhale, then slumped back into her chair, her arm and shoulder still tingling from the angel’s touch. She looked up at the ceiling for several long minutes, wondering how she would tell Shepard that his last Irregular had left and that she didn’t lift a finger to try and stop him.

“What will you do, Liara?” EDI asked.

Liara looked up at the camera in the corner and sighed. “Well he didn’t say that I couldn’t tell Stannis,” she said as she slowly got up from her chair. “Castiel, may your God watch over you,” she whispered as she walked out the door and toward the elevator.

A single text message pinged on the asari’s Omni-Tool:

_I appreciate it Liara. Thanks._

 

**Sam**

Sam sat at a table in the mess and dug into an enormous dinner-plate-sized bowl of cereal and milk. A chubby young woman sat down across from him and regarded him with deep-set hazel eyes. She was wearing a grey wide-leg pantsuit, and her long dark hair ran down her back in waves, barely restrained by a large barrette. On her forehead was a birthmark that looked like some sort of Enochian sigil.

“Hello…?” Sam said slowly.

“Hi,” she said. “This is a better place for us to talk. You’re unconscious, and that--” she pointed to Sam’s cereal. “--represents the IV that they have in your arm to give you some nourishment.” The woman scratched her forehead for a moment. “Anyway.”

“Who the hell are you?” Sam asked. He set the spoon down and stopped eating, but the level of cereal and milk in the bowl continued to slowly go down.

His mysterious dining companion sighed deeply. “I’m not a demon, and like I said I’m not Lucifer. Let’s start there.” She stood from the table and walked back toward the steps by the main battery, then stood there at parade rest looking at the sleeping pods. A force field sprang up around the mess. “This is shielding you from your implants, by the way, and I’m doing my best to fool those Cerberus jerks by pretending to be you.”

“Go on…” Sam sat back and crossed his arms, and the woman turned to face him. He fixed her with an annoyed glare.

“Well shit,” she said. “I ought to know better from the way my family has treated you in the past--so let me give it to you straight, Sam. My name is Azrael. I’m an Angel of the Lord…” she sighed again. “And I beg your forgiveness.”

 

**Cerberus base**

“How are the scans coming along?” The doctor asked. Her assistant shook his head in amazement and pointed at the monitors.

“His neural processing is off the charts,” the man said. “And we saw what his spe--” Before he could continue, a squad of troopers came through the door led by a Centurion and a trio of engineers.

“We need to bug out,” the Centurion said. “This base is compromised.” The engineers began to pack up monitors and prep Sam’s bed for transport.

The doctor glared at the Centurion. “This is the third time in the last week and a half,” she snapped. “We are conducting important tests on this subject, and they cannot be stopped and started on a whim” she barked. “We were assured that this base is sec--” The Centurion grabbed her arm firmly and leaned in.

“Orders from the top--we are to leave this base immediately. Bring the subject with you--a shuttle is prepped and ready to go! NOW!” The engineers attached hoverlifts to Sam’s bed and started to ease him out of the room and down the hall, led by the Centurion. The doctor looked at her assistant, who shrugged. She huffed and stalked out of the room. The assistant hit a couple of buttons on the console, but before he could complete the sequence a trooper grabbed him and hustled him out.

 

**Sam**

“My forgiveness?” Sam asked the angel in front of him.

Azrael sighed. “Yeah.” She hung her head and let her shoulders droop. “Sam,” she pleaded, “you were dying. I manipulated your brother into getting you to say yes to me, because I needed the three of you--you, Dean, and Castiel. I healed you of the damage done by the Trials you undertook, helped Dean on jobs...and I brought you here.” She turned her gaze away, and her face reddened slightly. “I’m sorry, Sam. I really am. If I had known Cerberus would get their filthy indoctrinated mitts on you...Shit.”

Sam’s expression darkened. He set his jaw and tensed, and he clenched his fists. Before he could act, the angel put up a hand and the force field turned bright orange. A gaggle of husks came loping around from where the elevator would be, and were incinerated by the field.

“These implants that they put in you. It’s all Reaper-tech, Sam, and it’s trying to indoctrinate you--thus the occasional husks and other Reaper mooks. I’m sure that demons and probably another angel or two will show up. You know what Cerberus does to people--Cas told you himself, I was there with you. I’m trying to prevent that from happening to you.” She looked up at Sam and bit her lip. “Please, Sam--all I ask is that you hear me out. If you want me gone after that, I’ll go without a shred of complaint.” 

“Fine,” Sam replied. He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms. “I’m listening. You said you’re the one who brought me to this world. Why?”

“Because of the war.” Azrael took a deep breath for a moment, then exhaled slowly. “Actually, it goes back a lot farther than that.” A husk materialized four feet behind Azrael and stood there staring at her for a few seconds. Without missing a beat, the angel drew a Paladin heavy pistol, turned, and blew the husk’s head off before turning back to Sam. “There are angels here--a lot of them, but not as many as there were back home before the Apocalypse. We’re trying to help the mortals of this world beat the Reapers.” She pointed at the birthmark on her forehead. “This mark, by the way? Placed on my forehead by God Himself. I was the one angel left in Heaven that Michael couldn’t rewrite or kill. There are fifteen of us, total.” Azrael looked up at the ceiling. “We were the last ones to see Dad before He went on walkabout. I helped the other fourteen escape to this world, and stayed behind to become Michael’s personal assassin. I hunted down doubters and those who refused to follow orders.”

“You killed angels?” Sam asked.

“Only the ones that decided to work for Lucifer once the Apocalypse rolled around. The others I brought here as refugees,” Azrael replied. “I just told Michael that I killed them--and that self-righteous fuckbagel actually believed it,” she quipped with a snort. “I took their blades before sending them through the door, and gave them to him--then my sister helped them get settled in on this side. She’s given our people here something to believe in, something worth fighting for.”

“And who’s your sister?” Sam uncrossed his arms and straightened up.

Azrael sighed again. “She’s the one to tell you that.” She put up her hands. “I’m serious, I’ve made clear to her that she’s going to have to introduce herself to you at some point.” Azrael sat down in the middle of the floor and looked up at Sam. “Sam, let me cut to the chase. Stannis Shepard is the one person that can get this galaxy working together to beat the Reapers--and he needs all the help he can get. So I brought the Heroes of the Apocalypse--that would be you, your brother, and my brother--here to help him.”

“Why didn’t you just ask us to help!?” Sam snapped. He walked around the angel slowly before stopping in front of her with his arms crossed again. “Why not just ask us to come here, tell us who to talk to, where to go, rather than just...dumping us here and leaving us to fend for ourselves with nothing but somebody’s lost credit card? Chit. Whatever.”

“Because,” Azrael said quietly. She took her time getting up, and looked Sam in the eye. “When you and your brother think that you’re left with your own devices,” she remarked, gently tapping Sam in the chest, “that is when you tap into your own power to do truly great things.” She shrugged. “Besides, would you really have believed me if I’d said “Hi, I’m an archangel who needs to send you to a world where man is in space, there are aliens that can live on sugar and aren’t Bugs from _Men in Black_ , and oh yeah--the galaxy is about to be gang-tackled by these enormous sentient machines that scour the galaxy of all spacefaring life every fifty millennia”? I mean, think about it--Balthazar sending you two to the alternate Earth where you were actors in a show about your own lives is way the fuck more plausible than that.”

“Yeah,” Sam snorted. “I suppose it is.” Without warning, the force field dropped. The doors to the Main Battery opened and a horde of demons poured out and started charging down the narrow corridor to the mess, which had turned into a burned-out hellscape. 

“Shit--stay back, I’ve got this!” Azrael drew two angel blades and launched herself headlong into melee, cutting the demons down in a leaping, whirling frenzy of grey and red and silver. After the last demon fell, the bodies vanished, the mess and corridor returned to normal, and the angel fell to her hands and knees, panting with exertion. 

Sam ran up the steps and helped her up, and she slumped against him with the colour draining from her face. “Come here, I’ve got you.” He helped her down to sit on the steps. “I didn’t think that would tire you out,” he said.

“Ordinarily it wouldn’t,” Azrael responded between wheezes. “But only half of me is camped inside your head.” She took Sam’s hand, and the angel’s complexion slowly returned to normal. “Sorry about that--needed to tap your soul for an energy shot. How are you feeling?”

“Umm...fine?” Sam replied.

“Good.” Azrael sighed and yawned a bit, then leaned back. “I split myself in half when I brought you here. The other half is in my original vessel, acting as an anchor.” She patted her round stomach. “This is what she looks like. Very nice girl named Nadira.”

“And where is she?” Sam queried.

“Unconscious, on the floor of Bobby Singer’s panic room, marked with a sigil that hides her from pretty much everyone.” Azrael patted her forehead. “It’s only because of this mark that I was able to pull that off.” She looked at Sam. “They’re getting ready to move you again, by the way. I can hear the engines humming a bit more than normal.”

“That’s the third time that’s happened. Why are they moving me?”

“I suspect that they’re trying to stay one step ahead of a very pissed-off brother of mine.” Azrael got up. “Stay here--please. It really is the safest place for you. Let me do the heavy lifting with Cerberus, and I promise I’ll keep you up to date on what’s going on.” Azrael held out her arm, and an Omni-Tool appeared. She tapped a couple of commands, and a new force field sprang up around the mess, which shifted to become the Normandy’s starboard observation lounge. The walls shimmered to indicate that the angel’s shield was still in place, but other than that the room looked like it did on the ship. “I’ve got the implants shielded as best I can. I just hope it’s enough.” She vanished, leaving Sam alone.

Sam stood in the middle of the lounge and looked around for a long moment. He sighed, and sat down on a banquette to look out the window.

 

**Somewhere in the Terminus Systems  
Three days later**

When Dean closed his eyes, Hell closed in. The hooks dug into his skin with every movement he made, and fire licked his skin. Blood ran hot down his legs and arms where the hooks held him. When he opened his eyes, he heard the whispers of the damned. “Sam? Sam! Help me Sammy!”

“You want down, Dean?” The reedy nasal rasp in his ears made him look around. He closed his eyes, and Alastair stood there with his implements of torture. “All you gotta do is say yes.” Dean opened his eyes, and he zeroed in on a spider on the ceiling. He saw data about the spider scrolling up the right side of his field of vision for a moment. He blinked and caught a glimpse of Alastair coming toward him.

“Go to Hell, you black-eyed asswipe!” Dean snarled. He kicked, but felt restraints holding him tightly. He thrashed and yanked, and was held fast. He closed his eyes tightly and concentrated. This isn’t real, he told himself. It’s a nightmare, and you’re going to wake up and Sammy and Cas will be right there. He opened his eyes again, and looked around to see what looked like a medical bay. He was strapped down to a hospital bed, alone in a big room with one overhead light. The smell of Medi-Gel and sweat and blood filled his nostrils. “Anyone there? Sammy? Cas?”

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.” A man in a grey suit walked toward him and looked down at him. “And how are we doing today?” He had salt-and pepper hair and cold blue-grey eyes, and looked down at Dean as if sizing up a piece of meat on a butcher’s block. Dean blinked, and saw Alastair leering at him again. The man poked Dean in the arm, and the hunter immediately tensed against the restraints. “Hmm,” the man muttered to himself. “Reaction time seems to be improved...but it’ll need more testing.” Dean caught a whiff of sulfur, and the man’s eyes turned black. “What do you say, Dean?” he heard Alastair say through the man’s mouth. “Shall we put you through your paces today?”

Dean tensed against his restraints again, and the man quickly backed away as the hunter broke free, bellowing his rage. “I’m going to send you back to Hell, you bastard!” A force field dropped around the room, caging Dean. He threw himself at the field, and staggered back when it held. The field rippled outward from the point of impact. He looked around the room at the machinery that was now coming into focus. Dean blinked, and the room turned into Alastair’s torture chamber. Dean bellowed incoherently and charged. The enraged hunter tore a rack of torture implements from its place on the floor, and flung it through a mirror before turning to the torture table. 

“You want to know what the Righteous Man does?! Do you?!” Dean shouted. _“This is what the Righteous Man does!”_ He put his fists together and brought them down with all his might on the middle of the table, breaking it in half. He picked up one half and hurled it at the wall, then picked up the other half and brought it down on a table full of torture implements. He heard unknown whispers in his ears and the screams of the damned. “Where are you, you sons of bitches?! Come at me! You killed my parents, and now I’m going to kill you!”

“Holy shit!” A technician pulled up bio-scan readings. “Look at this--his adrenaline production is off the charts… muscle stimulus and brain activity are way over anything our frontline troops have reported….” She looked up at the man in the grey suit with eyes wide. “This is incredible, Mr. Lawson. And you said this guy isn’t just some colonist?”

“No,” Lawson replied. “He’s not. But the Illusive Man has a keen interest in him and his brother for some reason.” He narrowed his eyes. “And so do I.” He walked to the door. “Drop the field,” he ordered.

“Are you sure?” The tech hovered her hand over a button on the panel. “I don’t know if that’s wise while he’s hallucinating, sir.”

“Do it,” Lawson ordered again. “I think I know a way to reach him, and get him to play along. Have the husks readied--I have another test for our subject.” He straightened his jacket and prepared to step through the door. Two troopers flanked him, SMGs at the ready.

Dean stood in the middle of the torture chamber and looked around for a way out. The walls shifted, and Dean found himself in a blasted clearing in the grey forest of Purgatory. His limbs and head still stung and burned, and the trees around him lay broken and bent. “Dean!” Dean turned to see his old friend Benny standing before him with two other vampires.

“Benny?” Benny nodded, and Dean stepped over and grabbed him in a huge hug. “Holy shit, am I ever glad to see you brother.”

“Me too,” Benny replied in his cajun drawl. “Don’t mind these two.” He indicated the vampires on either side of him. “They’re with me. Come on, we gotta go.” The trees wavered in Dean’s vision. He blinked a couple of times, and they came into focus. The growls and howls of Purgatory’s inhabitants echoed through the forest, and Dean nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

Lawson and his bodyguards quickly led Dean down the hall to a large room. “Dean,” Lawson said, “we’re trapped.” A seething horde of husks stood at the far end of the room, behind a force field. "We gotta get through all them before we can save Sam." The hunter stepped forward and clenched his fists. Lawson stepped back and nodded at one of the troopers, who handed Dean his SMG. Dean looked at it and threw it to the ground.

“That’s not gonna work on these things. They’re Leviathans, you gotta decapitate ‘em to slow them down.” Lawson stepped forward.

“Here. Use this.” He put Dean’s Omni-Tool in his hand, and the clasps wrapped themselves snugly around his fingers. “That should do the trick.” Lawson stepped back again, and Dean clenched his fist. The Omni-Tool lit up, and a flaming orange blade flicked out. Lawson and the troopers backed through the entrance to the room, and the door shut in front of them. “Drop the force field,” he said.

“Yeah.” Dean--the Righteous Man--marched toward the crowd of hungry Leviathans that stood before him, flaming sword in hand. “Listen up, you fuckers!” he bellowed. “I ganked your boss--and you’re next!” Several of the monsters shrieked at him, and they charged. Dean bellowed a cry of rage, and waded into the morass of bodies, swinging his blade in a wide arc. Leviathans fell, heads separated from bodies, their black blood splattering the landscape, splattering Dean. He kicked and punched and threw his foes around the clearing, howling with release. This was Purgatory. This was pure. This was _hunting_. He was Dean Winchester, he was a Hunter, and for once he was home. The trees started to shimmer as the battle raged, and the Leviathans started to change form to become husks. 

“This is incredible, Mr. Lawson.” The technician pointed at the monitors. “His heartrate is evening out now, and his response times--he’s like a human hurricane out there! Too bad all we have are husks, because against a bigger target?” The technician whistled.

Lawson nodded. “Good enough. We’ll see how Dean’s feeling after this little test.”

Dean zeroed in on one of the husks, and a data stream ran up the side of his vision like it did with the spider. The husk ran toward him with three of its fellows, and Dean rolled backward to pick up the SMG, cutting the zombies down as he came up on one knee, panting. He levelled the SMG at the far corners of the room for a moment before dropping the gun to the floor.

“Feels good, don’t it?” Benny asked. “Get the blood flowin’.” Dean looked up and saw his friend grinning down at him. “C’mon,” Benny said, holding out his hand. “Let’s get up out of this place. Go help some people.” Dean looked at the dead husks littering the floor, then up at Benny. “C’mon, Dean. You know it’s what you’re born for--helping humanity against the monsters.”

Dean thought about it for a moment, then nodded. He reached up and took Benny’s hand, then stood. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

“Very good, Dean.” Henry Lawson patted Dean Winchester on the back. “Very good. Welcome to Cerberus.”


	23. Interlude 2: The Spirit of Radio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shadow Broker gets help (and a request) from friends she didn't even know she had.

“Excuse me, Dr. T’soni.” Glyph buzzed over by Liara’s desk from his post near the door to her quarters. “I have received a text-only message for you from an unknown address.”  Liara looked up at her info drone and raised an eyebrow.

“Put it on the central monitor, Glyph.” The archaeologist swivelled her desk chair around and scooted it over to her monitors. The message popped up on Liara’s big monitor in the flowing script of her native Armali dialect.

> _Shadow Broker;_
> 
> _Use the coded frequency I’ve attached to this message. Apologies in advance for the photos; they’re a little graphic._

A list appeared on the screen, combined with photos showing partially destroyed bases marked with Cerberus colours. The wreckage was littered with dead bodies, some bearing burned-out eyes and implants and others showing the effects of sudden exposure to hard vacuum. Below that, a comm frequency appeared. Liara keyed in the frequency, and pressed the RECORD button on her console before opening the channel.

 _Who is this?_  

> _My name’s Cadfael--let’s talk, one spymaster to another._

Liara raised an eyebrow. _What is it that you want with me?_   she typed.

> _It’s more a matter of what I and my people need--and what we need is for you and your crewmates to find our brother Castiel and get him to stop his rampage._

“By the Goddess,” Liara said. Before she could type a response, another message pinged.

 

> _There’s a mole that betrayed the Winchesters to Cerberus. He’s one of us, and he’s placed in the Alliance. We’re trying to find and deal with him as quietly as possible, but if Castiel continues on his one-angel path of destruction, that mole will go to ground and we may never find him until it's too damn late to do anything._ After a brief pause, another message popped up. _My people are fighting this war too, Dr. T’soni. Let’s help each other._

 

Liara’s jaw dropped a bit when she read the sentence. She stared at the screen dumbly for a couple of moments. Her fists clenched tightly and her expression darkened. The asari took a deep breath and let it out slowly as her fingers flew angrily over the keyboard. _It doesn’t look like it from where I’m sitting_ , she angrily shot back. _It looks like you’re just standing back doing nothing while people die!_

Liara watched as the reply scrolled up the screen.

> _I understand the anger--but we *are* helping. Our sending Castiel, Dean, and Sam to you was our only *direct* help, but we’re still helping. We’re all over the galaxy, but we’re working among you rather than out in front. We’re mercenaries, soldiers, engineers, spies, traders, and even humanitarian workers, all busting our asses to help the good guys win because we can’t just wave a magic wand and make the Reapers disappear. Not only that, but there’s only one species that my people are designed to be compatible with. If thousands of angels suddenly show up wearing human faces and say “Hi, we’re Angels of the Lord and we’re here to help you”, even Commander Shepard's closest friends are going to wonder if they’re truly allies in this war, or if they’re just cannon fodder for Humanity._

After another minute or two, another message appeared.

> _I’m running my people’s intelligence effort, which includes helping you. Those photos I’ve given you are from a recon team that I sent to investigate a bunch of Cerberus bases that suddenly went dark. There are many more photos--and they’re a hell of a lot less pretty than that. We’re all on the same side, here._
> 
> _So yes, I get it. My people chafed under our own collective decision to be “hands-off” in this world many cycles ago, even though that decision was made to ensure our own survival. We left hints, tried to influence things, but mortal races kept making the same mistakes again and again--until this cycle. Things changed after the Charon Relay was opened and Humanity finally made it out of the Sol system, and they changed even more after Alchera. We finally _had_ to take a more proactive approach--and we were all overjoyed when we took off our self-imposed shackles to go "boots on the ground" alongside mortals. So we’re here *now*, and we’re helping *now*._
> 
> _We are all in, Liara._

Liara sat back and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “There are so many questions…” She hovered her hands over the keyboard for a moment before typing _What interest do your people have in this war?_

> _Castiel said it himself: we were created to be shepherds and guardians of Creation--where we came from, that meant Humanity, but here it means everyone, right up to and including the Geth. But what he hasn’t figured out is that a big part of that whole “shepherding and guarding” thing means letting mortals make mistakes and learn from them, rather than directly meddling and manipulating to try to get the result we wanted like our people did “back home”. That shit makes us no better than the damned Reapers. You're leading. We're following and supporting._

Liara raised an eyebrow. _So what makes this cycle different? The fact that humans are around?_ she typed.

> _Yes and no.  You can say that it's a bit personal for my people, thanks to what happened over Alchera in 2183._
> 
> _We’ve got a strongly vested interest in seeing Stannis Shepard succeed in uniting the galaxy to defeat the Reapers. To that end, Castiel **needs** to be stopped before his desire to rescue the Winchesters and exact vengeance causes irreparable harm to the galactic war effort. _

Liara sat staring at the screen for a long moment, biting her lip and trying to think of what to say next. She looked over and saw the battered leather journal that Sam had let her read through, and sighed. _What about the Winchesters?_ she typed.

> _We’ve made several attempts to track down Dean, but we’ve had no luck--for all of our celestial power, we still need to rely on technology for a lot of things in this world. I think Cerberus has him in a shielded facility that we can’t crack, so we’re currently forced to hope for the best while expecting the worst. We tracked Sam through prayers to Castiel, but they’ve come to a dead end. My personal suspicion is that the brothers have been split up._

_Then how do you expect us to find them?_ Liara bit her lip as she typed the question.

After several minutes, Cadfael finally responded.

> _Liara, you and everyone else on that ship have demonstrated over the years that you’re far more capable than anyone gives you credit for. I’m confident that if anyone can track the Winchesters down before we can, it’s the crew of the SSV Normandy._
> 
> _As an aside--and a show of good faith: I’m passing along a report from Agent Cerulean. He's one of a handful of agents that we have in common. His system is overrun and he’s gone to ground with the local resistance. He requests that no further agents be placed in or near that system until further notice--so that report is the last you’ll get for a while, unless he sends something over the Prayer-line. If that happens, I'll forward it on to you in person._
> 
> _If I get any information from our mutual agents that hasn't been sent to you first, I’ll pass it along--but I have one stipulation, and it’s ironclad: Under no circumstances do I want you invoking my name. I’ll hear your prayer, sure--I'll even respond; but so will Castiel. He needs to focus on helping you and the rest of his crewmates rather than trying to find out who’s here by listening in on occasional flashes from "Angel Radio". If you need to talk to me, use that coded frequency. And whatever you do, do not give my name to Castiel; I've got a sneaking suspicion that he'll hear from us soon enough._
> 
> _Cadfael out._

The screens immediately flashed back to her video feeds.

“The channel has been closed, Dr. T’soni.” Glyph buzzed near the monitors. “I have received Agent Cerulean’s report, and it is ready for you to read at your convenience.”

  
“Thank you, Glyph.” Liara sat back and stared at her monitors for several minutes. “I need to clear my head--if you need me, I’ll be in the Port Lounge having a stiff drink.”  She got up, and walked out the door.


	24. Open Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel gets corralled, but not without cost. EDI witnesses a miracle, and asks a question. The clone takes a name, gets the shock of his life, and hears a story that challenges his perspective a bit.

**_SSV Normandy_ **

**Orbiting Dekuuna**

 

A small star erupted off the Normandy’s stern, hovering briefly in the interplanetary medium. The ship drifted quietly, all lights off and all systems powered down except for life support. A call--a repeated prayer--echoed across the universe on a frequency no comm buoy would ever pick up.

_Castiel! It’s Kaidan--I don’t know if you can hear me, but we’re stranded over Dekuuna and need your help. Cerberus operatives are on board and Shepard is down; we need you Cas. Please hurry!_

The star drifted close to the ship, passing through the hull and into the cargo bay where it coalesced into Castiel. The angel settled to the deck to see Kaidan standing alone in the middle of the cargo bay, his back to him.

“Kaidan?” Castiel walked toward the biotic. “I came as quickly as I could. You sa--” His words were cut short when Kaidan spun around, his own biotics flaring brightly. Castiel saw a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye, and Castiel felt himself held tightly as Kaidan reached out toward him. He impulsively lashed out against the stasis field, and saw Kaidan stagger and grit his teeth. His face darkened, and Castiel saw a drop of blood start to run down from Kaidan’s right nostril.

“Hurry!” Liara shouted from Castiel’s left as Kaidan started to buckle under the strain. “We can’t hold him much longer!” Castiel was about to break the stasis when he felt something cold and metallic clamp over first one wrist and then the other. His biotics failed, and the angel collapsed to the deck along with Kaidan. Liara staggered and dropped to one knee, panting with exertion. James rushed over and knelt next to the asari, who nodded and waved him off. “I’ll be okay--check on Kaidan. Let Shepard know that we’ve got Cas.”

Castiel began to crawl toward Kaidan, and passed out three feet away from the biotic Marine, who lay crumpled on the deck in an expanding pool of blood.

  
  


**Heaven**  
**War Room**

  


_Cadfael,  
We finally tracked down Castiel--but it wasn’t without cost. Our XO is unconscious and has suffered a cerebral hemorrhage from the strain of helping me hold Castiel in stasis long enough for biotic dampener cuffs to be put on him, and we don’t know if he’ll make it. We’re all worried...Stannis especially. He’s focusing on the evacuation from Dekuuna, but I can tell it’s bothering him. _

“Fuck.” Cadfael knitted his brow and rubbed his chin in the darkened War Room. He was pleased to see that Castiel’s rampage through Cerberus’ holdings had been stopped--but he was not happy at Liara’s news about Kaidan. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then typed a response.

> _Please keep me posted, Liara. I wish I had more to say, but I know how much Major Alenko means to Stannis._

“Gabriel.” Cadfael glanced up at the man on the other side of the table, then back to his screen when the man looked up. “Is Yshara still on Dekuuna with the _SSV Tangiers_?”

The younger Shepard punched a couple of keys. “Yes she is,” he said, red and blue and green and white dancing over his face in the light from the war room’s map. He quickly typed out a message and hit SEND. “Dispatching her to the Normandy.” Gabriel looked over at the ginger angel. “I heard you curse and guessed that something bad happened.”

Cadfael nodded. “Yeah. Thanks Gabriel.” The angel looked over from his screen and smiled slightly. “It's a good name that you took.” He sat back in his chair and clasped his hands across his chest like a bear after a good meal. “If he were here, I think that your namesake uncle would take a liking to you.” He sat forward and continued, "I'm also very appreciative of your help. You're a natural for this stuff."

Gabriel nodded. “Thank you for giving me a chance,” he replied. “If it's okay with you, I’d like to head to the Library for a while.” Cadfael nodded, and went back to his conversation with Liara. Gabriel turned and walked out of the War Room and into the long hallway to the Master Library. The walls and floor of the hall, grey when he originally came to Heaven, were now showing a twinkling starscape that made Gabriel feel like he was walking through space. The ceiling was adorned with the “Backbone of Night” view of the Milky Way that he saw in an old Astronomy text in the Library.

About halfway down, Gabriel paused and put a hand on the wall for a moment, and leaned into it when he felt a slight vibration in the walls. The vibration resonated in his body as a hum, the speech of angels without the ear-piercing shriek. He closed his eyes, and turned to put his forehead to the wall. It was warm, almost alive, and he felt like he was becoming a part of the wall as imagery filled his head of summer days and nighttime fires, children being tucked in with bedtime stories, and lovers finding bliss in each others’ company. The happiness of each soul’s Heaven made him smile, and he felt the peace of Heaven surround him like a warm hug. He concentrated on Israfel, and saw her walking down one of the Library’s halls in the company of another person that he didn’t recognise. Gabriel straightened up and waited for the imagery to fade, then continued down the hallway to the lift.

  
  


**Heaven**  
**Master Library, Hall of the 21st Cycle**

  


“He knows you are here. _ki’ith’is’ha_.” The spirit’s gentle voice echoed in the darkened hall. “But then...”

“Yes, P’a’l.” Israfel’s voice was heavy and warbled slightly as she fought back another round of tears. “Sometimes he acknowledges me. Sometimes he’s inert. But then you know that.” She placed a hand on the force field that surrounded the glasteel case and pushed slightly, causing the force field to ripple under her touch. “ _Ki’ith’s’h’ra…_ ”  

The form encased in the force field stirred and moved, bluish-white lines of circuitry lighting up on its grey skin. The husk's eyes focused on the angel, pale blue-white and outlined in black like it had been smote, and it put a hand against the glass. “Isssrafffel…” Its voice was slow and thick, forced and sluggish with the sibilant and fricative consonants drawn out. Israfel smiled slightly at its acknowledgement.

“Yes.” She leaned against the rippling forcefield, and the husk did the same within its glassteel prison. “It’s been a while, my husband. I have much to tell you.”

  


**Master Library Core**

 

“Hey Gabriel,” an athletically-built angel in a lab tech’s smock greeted him as he stepped off the lift. The streaks of purple and blue in her blonde ponytail glittered under the lights of the Library’s hub, and she wore a heads-up display visor. “What’s up?”

“Hi Ruth,” Gabriel replied. “Umm….is Izzy around?” A fleeting frown crossed the angel’s round face, and she bit her lip.

“She is, but I dunno if she wants to be disturbed.” When she saw Gabriel raise an eyebrow in response, Ruth sighed. “She’s in the Hall of the 21st, bu--” Gabriel started to walk past her, and she reached out a hand to stop him “Wait.” She removed her hand and added, “Sorry. I just want to warn you that you may be a little startled when you get to the end of the hall. Just...well, hopefully you react better than your brother did. He, er, wasn’t too thrilled.”

Gabriel blinked a couple times. “O...kay.” He raised a finger as if he was going to pose a question, then waved his hand. “Ah, nevermind. I’ll just go see for myself. Thanks, Ruth.” He smiled at his aunt and turned to walk toward the Hall of the 21st Cycle.

  
  


**SSV Normandy**

Before Shepard’s shuttle returned from Dekuuna, EDI noted a strange energy signature quickly approaching the ship. Her scanners read it as a large being with wings. She watched as the energy infiltrated the ship and made its way to the crew deck to settle next to Kaidan in the MedBay. On her cameras, EDI saw a human combat medic materialize, a tall reedy human female with hazel eyes and sandy hair tied back in a bun. EDI scanned the nameplate on the medic’s fatigues--A. HANSON--and began a facial-recognition and name scan through her copies of Alliance military records, cross-referenced with her own records of known Cerberus operatives and the Citadel’s immigration control database.

The AI came upon the record of a medic assigned to the _SSV Tangiers_ , and marked it for future reference. She watched the medic reach over and touch the tips of her right index and middle fingers to Kaidan’s forehead for a second, then lean down to whisper something in his ear--right before she looked up to wink at EDI’s camera and put a finger to her lips to indicate silence. The medic vanished, and EDI watched as her energy signature left the _Normandy_ and disappeared into the blackness of space.

  
  


**Heaven**  
**Master Library, Hall of the 21st Cycle**

  


Gabriel walked into the hall and paused to take a long look at the exhibits. From primitive cave paintings and reproductions of pheromonic signatures to scrolls, hardcopy books, vids, and displays of knick-knacks, the hall catalogued the rise of the spacefaring species harvested by the Reapers that cycle. “Whoa…” He reached out and touched a display containing several scrolls, and a small holoprojector popped out. A small representation of what looked like a human male appeared, clad in a flowing cassock-like coat over wide-leg trousers and supple boots. The image had slightly curly hair that cascaded over his shoulders, a flat broad face with large almond-shaped eyes and a high forehead, and flowing filigree tattooing which evoked the image of waves washing over his body.

“Greetings, Querent,” the image said in a lilting voice that reminded him of water flowing through a riverbed. “I am an interactive curator, programmed to respond in all currently-known languages. This case contains the Five Scrolls of Law from the First Ki’ith Assembly, dated 997,814 BCE, Earth Standard Calendar. These scrolls were transcribed by U’r’th’et of House A’s’th’, on paper created from water plants indigenous to the Ki’ith’aar homeworld of Khar’shan.”

Gabriel raised both eyebrows. “Khar’shan?” The image blinked.

“I am programmed to name all stars and planets according to the current cycle. Would you like the name of this world as of the 21st cycle?”

“Er...Yes.”

“The Ki’ith’aar called their homeworld Ki’ith’we’ik, or “Cradle of the People”. The name of the star was--”

“Hi’ist’ka,” another voice said. The image bowed and vanished, and the holoprojector retracted into the display. Gabriel turned and saw the man in the holographic image standing there smiling at him. “My apologies--and yes, that holographic curator is me. I don’t believe we have met--My name is P’a’l of House A’s’th’. I am a humble soul who visits this Library from time to time. And you must be Gabriel.” He smiled and extended his hand. His tattoos swirled and flowed over his flesh, their ink faintly luminous. Gabriel hesitated for a moment, then shook it firmly.

“Where’s Izzy?” Gabriel asked. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m looking for her.” He shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other and bit his lip for a moment. P’a’l bowed slightly and made a graceful sweeping wave of his arm toward the end of the hall. A ripple of light flowed through the ink.

“She is at the end--but I must warn you, what you find may come as...a bit of a shock. Please, keep an open mind and listen.”

Gabriel looked down the hall and saw a tall rectangular display case that stretched from floor to ceiling, surrounded by the bluish shimmer of a force field. There were two forms--one inside the force field, another outside--seated and leaning against each other. When he approached, he heard Israfel speaking to whatever was inside the case. “And here comes our _ki’ith’sh’aa_ now.” Israfel stood and approached Gabriel. “Son, please. Come meet--” The angel’s smile faded when she saw her son’s expression.

“What the fucking fuck is _that_ doing here?!” Gabriel demanded, pointing at the display case. His face darkened, and he immediately summoned his barrier. “A live husk? Seriously?” He glared at Israfel and balled his fists. “I can’t...WHY?” he shouted. “Why do you have a live husk in this place?!”

Static crackled over Gabriel’s body as his barrier flared. He prepared to launch himself at the husk when P’a’l laid a hand on his shoulder. “Gabriel, stop.” The soul’s voice was firm, his grip firmer. When he spun around, P’a’l shook his head. “I am a soul. Your biotics won’t work on me the way they will on the living. Your _ki’ith’ii’hs_ is imprisoned. His fate was the fate of our people--if you want answers,” he said evenly, “then you must control your anger and let Israfel explain.”

Gabriel took a deep breath and glared at the soul in front of him. After several seconds, he shook off P’a’l’s grip, turned, and stalked back down the hall. “Just...leave me alone,” he said as he left. When he got to the lift, Gabriel ignored it and set off a biotic charge that launched him up to the door out of the Library. He stormed down the hallway to his apartments and stood in the middle of the living area, static still arcing over him. He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times as he tried to calm his rage at discovering his angelic parent’s secret, then turned and walked into the exercise room. He detonated his barrier with a cry of anguish, sending exercise equipment and practice dummies flying against the walls, then sank into a heap in the middle of the room. A jumble of emotions clashed inside him, and all that Gabriel Shepard found himself able to do in response was cry.

  
  


**War Room**

Cadfael stood at the map table, reading a report from a field agent. “Vas’jak perash!” He frowned at the report scrolling up the screen in front of him.  Annother angel--a strapping red-headed woman who looked like Cadfael’s identical twin minus the beard--standing opposite him looked up from her own report.

“Batarian?” She raised an eyebrow and flipped a lock of hair out of her face. “It’s gotta be bad, if you’re cursing in Batarian. What’s up?”

Cadfael closed his eyes and slowly shook his head as he closed the report. “Just saw the final numbers from Dekuuna. If the Elcor survive this war, there may not be enough left of them to rebuild.” He sighed. “It’s a damned shame. Do me a favour--”  His request was cut short by a ping from his Omni-Tool. He noted the incoming frequency and tapped the back of his hand as his female counterpart nodded and left the War Room. On her way out, she mouthed _I’ll talk to the Librarians._ Cadfael nodded and turned his attention to his Omni-Tool.

> _Liara? What can I do for you?_

_I am not Dr. T'soni,_ the correspondent replied. _I am EDI--and I would rather keep this between us._  

> Cadfael smiled and started typing.  _For some reason, EDI, I’m not surprised. Have you been eavesdropping on my conversations with our mutual friend?_

_I have not. But if you speak to Flight Lieutenant Anabel Hanson anytime soon, please give her my personal thanks for her aid to my friend and crewmate._ A clip from EDI’s cameras of the angel materializing in the _Normandy_ ’s MedBay and healing Kaidan ran. _I detected Lieutenant Hanson’s energy signature as part of a search routine Castiel asked me to run for him before he left to search for the Winchesters, and I tracked her movement in the ship. Since I never picked up that energy signature from Castiel, I extrapolated that the energy signature was what he refers to as “grace”._

> Cadfael raised both eyebrows for a moment. _Have you shared this information with anyone?_

_No, nor do I intend to. I am contacting you for personal reasons._

> _Where’s Castiel now, if you don’t mind my asking?_

_He is in the ship’s brig, wearing biotic inhibitor cuffs. Stannis is planning to have a “chat” with him about Major Alenko’s injury and what Stannis called--quote--“that unsanctioned, unsupported, unnecessary, and goddamn pain in the ass Batarian Clusterfuck of a one-man operation.”_

> Cadfael burst out laughing at that last line. _That’s a very Stannis thing to say._

_Agreed,_ EDI replied. _But I messaged you because of a question that I have pondered since it was confirmed that Castiel is not the only angel in this world. Since we have determined that Heaven does indeed exist in some form; if I cease functioning after having lived a life of altruism and self-sacrifice, will my consciousness go there even if I am not organic?_

> Cadfael stroked his beard for a moment. _I don’t see why you wouldn’t. Heaven is for the souls of the good and righteous, after all. Why do you ask?_

_I was pondering Legion’s sacrifice for the Geth--and also thinking of Jeff._

> Cadfael smiled. _Are you asking for yourself, then, or for the man you love?_

After several long moments, EDI replied with _I am asking for both of us._

> _I understand. My advice is to focus on your life and keep trying to be a better person today than you were yesterday--in other words, focus on being the best person you can be in this life (I believe the Winchesters would call it "not being a dick"), and everything will  sort itself out._

_Thank you._

> _Anytime, EDI._

  


**Gabriel’s apartments**

Gabriel picked at his food. After a couple of minutes of poking, sighing, and moving his beef stroganoff around on the plate, he finally took a deep breath and forced himself to take a bite. “Why the hell am I even here?” he asked himself between bites. “This is…” He stopped and set his fork down, then pushed the plate away and got up from the table. He walked over to the fireplace and sat down, orienting his chair to face the flames. He leaned forward and stared into the fire, elbows on his knees, and held his head in his hands.

Feelings of anger and betrayal bubbled up again, as they did in the Library. The anger died down almost as quickly as it surfaced, and in its place Gabriel started to feel numb. He sat up and slumped back in his chair. After a few seconds, he crossed his legs in front of him, right ankle over left. He sighed and crossed them the other way, then uncrossed them and stood up to start pacing around his living room. He sighed and huffed repeatedly as he started spitting out a stream of consciousness to himself. “Maybe there’s just a perfectly logical reason for having a LIVE HUSK in the middle of fucking Heaven. Of course there is--there just _has_ to be one, right? Maybe it was the first husk. Maybe it’s a special husk--is it an angel turned into a husk? Is it an old boyfri--no way, it can’t be. Seriously?”  He stopped and pulled up his Omni-Tool. He punched a few commands and brought up the Master Library’s translation routine, and instructions rolled up the screen in Enochian. “You’re shitting me--oh wait, this is Heaven. Of course it’s in Enochian. Duh Gabriel.” He tapped a couple of buttons to bring up the query window, and stabbed the “voice prompt” key. The screen blinked, and Gabriel repeated the word that he heard P’a’l say: “ _ki’ith’ii’hs.”_ Almost immediately, the answer came up:

 

“ _ki’ith’ii’hs_ \- _‘Father’. Ki’ith’aar, 21st Cycle. Term used to designate the adoptive father of children brought into a marriage between two Houses of the Ki’ith’aar or a Ki’ith’aar male and a member of another species, or an unmarried Ki’ith’aar male who adopted a child from another House or species. Under the legal code of the strongly exogamous Ki’ith’aar, all children were considered to be birthed as Ki’ith’aar regardless of their species, in keeping with the Ki’ith’aar belief that ‘The Ki’ith’aar are All, All are Ki’ith’aar.’ See also ‘ki’ith’s’aa -- child’.”_

 

Gabriel shut off the program and stood silently in the middle of the room. He sighed deeply. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, then walked over to the door. He touched the wall next to the door, but didn’t feel the hum he felt earlier. He opened the door and walked into the hall, where he reached out toward the wall in front of him. His hand was millimeters away from the wall when a voice interrupted him.

“Excuse me, can you help me? I seem to be a little lost.” Gabriel turned to see a man with short brown hair and a scruffy beard standing before him with a confused look on his face. He was dressed like a 21st-century human, with dark denim pants, a white shirt, and a black jacket from that era. The man looked up at Gabriel with rheumy hazel eyes and scratched his beard. “Do you think you can help me find my way back to the Library?”

“Uhh...sure,” Gabriel replied. “It’s...it’s this way. Come on.” He and the strange man started to walk down the hallway to the Library access lift. “I take it you’re not an angel.”

The man chuckled. “Oh no, definitely not an angel. What about you?”

Gabriel shook his head a bit. “No, definitely not an angel. Just the son of one.” The man stopped and looked up at him with wide eyes, and Gabriel looked back at him with a perplexed expression on his face. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“I thought you were on the _Normandy,_ ” the man commented, “fighting some big war. That’s why you were sent back.”

Gabriel snorted softly and shook his head. “No, _Stannis_ is on the _Normandy._ I’m Gabriel, his...his brother.” The word sounded foreign to him all of a sudden, like it did when he first arrived in Heaven. “Well, really I was cloned from his DNA. But according to the angels, that still makes me his brother.”

The strange man let out a sigh of relief. “Whew--I was worried for a minute, there. I thought the bad guys had gotten him again.” He stood there awkwardly looking down at the floor for a moment, then stuck out his hand. “Oh--I’m Chuck. Chuck Shurley. Prophet--retired, I guess. I’m also not from around here, which is probably why I’m lost.” Gabriel shook Chuck’s hand, and the two of them started to walk down the starscaped hallway again. “So how did you wind up here?”

“I tried to kill myself,” Gabriel replied. “But you know those angels…”

“Always sticking their nose in places. After Sam and Dean stopped the Apocalypse, an angel brought me here. I guess things got a little crazy after Lucifer was put back in the Cage.” The prophet shrugged. “Angels killing angels, Castiel letting the Leviathans loose--and Metatron kicking all the angels out of Heaven and trying to set himself up as God. He’s kind of a scary one, that Metatron. But I guess a desire for petty revenge will do that to you.”

Gabriel gave a slow nod in response. “Yeah,” he said quietly, “it will.” He sighed. “I suppose you could say that he and I had something in common.” The prophet and the Shepard reached the door, and Gabriel keyed it open. They stepped on the lift, which started its descent to the Library’s Central Core. “I kicked my brother off his ship, tried to kill him, and threatened to destroy the universe.”

“The universe? Come on Gabriel--this is just one galaxy. And your brother got his ship back, and he didn’t die. So that’s good, right?  I mean, aside from the whole Big Metal Monsters Trying To Kill Everyone Again thing--man, I don’t even think I could have come up with something like that.”

“But you did write yourself into your own books,” Gabriel quipped. “I read them. Pulpy and a little over-dramatic, but still entertaining. Did that all really happen?” he asked. Chuck half-rolled his eyes and shrugged a bit..

“All that and a lot more. When the Winchesters showed up at my door, I thought they were just some obsessed fans until they told me their last names. I never used their last names in my books. Then I met Castiel, and things got a little weird after that. Well okay, a lot weird.” The lift came to rest and the gate opened, and Gabriel ushered Chuck into the Library. The younger Shepard brother looked at the door to the Hall of the 21st Cycle, and made a tooth-sucking sound. When Chuck quietly “hmm?”ed, Gabriel sighed.

“Not sure I want to go back down there,” he said. “With that…”

“Husk?” Chuck shrugged a bit and sat down at a nearby reading table. “Come on, Gabriel--it’s in glass, behind a force field. What’s it going to do to you?” He pulled out a chair. “Here, sit down. Let me do what I do best, and tell you a story.”

Gabriel sat down. “A story.”

“I’m a writer, Gabriel. I’m not a very good writer, but I’m still a writer. I tell stories.” Chuck looked around. “Are you thirsty?” he asked. “Excuse me….uh, Ruth?” Ruth, the angel with multi-coloured hair that Gabriel had spoken to earlier, came over. “Do you have anything to drink? I think my friend here could use something.” Ruth smiled and nodded, and a pitcher of water materialized on the table along with two glasses.  “Wow,” Chuck commented. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Ruth looked at Gabriel. “How you feeling, babe? That was a pretty rude shock, and your reaction is pretty understandable.” Gabriel gave her a slightly consternated expression. “If it’s any consolation,” she said, “you took it a lot better than your brother did. He wouldn’t talk to any of us for months after he met K’a’l.” She leaned over and kissed her nephew on the head. “I promise, we certainly don’t hold anything against you.”

“Is that his name?” Gabriel asked. “And please don’t tell me his last name is El. I’m really not in the mood for ancient pop-culture references.”

“Nah, it’s not El.” Chuck said. “I read up on him--he’s from House...let me make sure I get the stops right, here--A’s’th’. He and his brother P’a’l were Ki’ith’aar. Their language is a little crazy. Lots of soft stops and fricatives. Sounds like water on the beach. But that’s beside the point. Their people were a lot like humans in some ways. Valued cooperation and diplomacy, mediated a lot of galactic disputes--but unlike some humans, they didn’t have a problem marrying outside their species. To them, it was their way of improving themselves by bringing in outside perspectives.”

“So what’s that got to do with the husk?” Gabriel poured himself a glass of water, drained it, and poured himself another. The water was slightly fruity, which encouraged him to drink. “Did they ally with the Reapers?”

“Oh no,” the writer replied. “No, no. Far from it. You see, during their cycle, Israfel and the rest of the angels were a little more active in trying to get people to fight the Reapers. Israfel lived among the Ki’ith’aar for a while, and met K’a’l. They fell in love, whirlwind courtship, got married--no kids, though.” Chuck furrowed his brow for a moment, and sighed. “Let me make sure I’m remembering this right. K’a’l was a Speaker--kinda like legislators, crossed with a diplomatic corps. P’a’l was...a Guardian. I think that’s it. Kind of like biotic monks.”

“Biotics?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “So those tattoos he has were eezo?” Chuck shrugged.

“I dunno. I think you need to ask him that. He hangs out around the Library. Nice guy, all Plato meets Kwai Chiang Cain meets Sun Tzu.” Chuck scratched his beard and sat back. “So when the Reapers showed up, K’a’l and the rest of the Speakers went around the galaxy to rally the troops. All the angels that were here pitched in, and they damn near pulled off an upset of 2004 Red Sox proportions--from what Israfel told me, the biggest Reaper...oh, what was his name…” Chuck tapped his forehead a few times, then snapped his fingers. “Harbinger! That one. Israfel was convinced that he took it personally, which is why he targeted the Ki’ith’aar for termination.” He sighed. “There are pictures, down that hall. You really should see it all for yourself.”

Gabriel sighed and drained his glass of water. “I don’t know if I want to,” he said softly. “I’m…”

“Afraid of what you might find?” Chuck leaned over and patted Gabriel’s hand. “Let me give you some advice, Gabriel. The angels here...they’re not raging dicks like the angels where I came from. They’re different--it’s pretty obvious to me that they care for you and your brother a lot, and they care for the people in this galaxy too. So give ‘em a chance.”

“Did you tell my brother the same thing?”

“Yeah--not in so many words, but yeah.” Chuck got up from the table. “I think I can find my way from here.” He patted Gabriel on the shoulder and smiled. “And whenever you get the chance to ask him, I think Stannis will forgive you for trying to kill him and steal his ship.” The retired Prophet walked toward the Hall of the 41st Cycle, opened the door, and walked through, letting the door close behind him. Gabriel turned his gaze to the door of the Hall of the 21st Cycle and sighed deeply.

“Well, shit.” He got up from the table, and the water service disappeared. Gabriel quietly walked toward the door labeled 21, and opened it. At the end of the hall, the husk--K’a’l--slumped against the glasteel of its prison. Gabriel took a deep breath, exhaled it sharply, and entered the Hall.

“Welcome, Gabriel Shepard,” a pleasant female voice intoned. “If you require assistance locating a certain item, please press the panel to your right, and a guide drone will activate.”

 “Convenient, no?” P’a’l walked out of the shadows to stand before him. “I presume you have returned to hear of the doom of our people.”

“Something like that,” Gabriel quietly replied.

P’a’l nodded. “Come,” he said softly, “let me tell you of the last days of the Ki’ith’aar.” He walked down the hallway, his gait fluid and controlled. His tattoos rippled over his body

“So you’re--you were--a monk?” Gabriel asked. P’a’l smiled slightly.

“In a sense. The _ki’ith’hi’s’a_ , Guardians, were officially explorers and first contact teams. Disciplined, trained to listen before acting. We were biotics, like you and your brother--but once we joined the Citadel, our purpose changed and we became more like ambassadors. Our discipline was necessary to mediate disputes…” P’a’l looked up at Gabriel. “And we were not above using our abilities to defend ourselves or put down a violent attacker if necessary.”

 “And the tattoos?”

P’a’l stopped to open his coat and show his tattooed chest. The whorls and eddies marked in his skin gave off a faint white glow. “Element zero. Intended to augment that which we already had in our bodies, mostly. But it was also quite decorative, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” Gabriel nodded, and the monk buttoned his coat with a slight smile. “My tattoos illustrate my people’s belief that we are children of the cosmos,” P’a’l said as the pair started walking down the Hall again. “All part of the same great river, flowing into the same great ocean.” He sighed. “It helped when the Reapers invaded. I joined my brother to become one of the first Warspeakers of our people. K’a’l and I knew that we would need to band together to fight the machines. We rallied the races of the galaxy to fight, and we came so close.” P’a’l’s voice trailed off. “So close….”

“What happened?” Gabriel asked.

The two stopped before K’a’l’s prison, and P’a’l put a hand on the forcefield, causing it to ripple. “This.” He pointed over to Gabriel’s left. “And that.” Gabriel looked, and saw a holographic painting of a city filled with dragon’s teeth. Every spike had a person on it, and hooded figures moved through the fields of spikes with objects in their hands while an enormous Reaper loomed overhead.

“What the hell?” Gabriel activated the controls under the picture, and manipulated it to get a better look--the hooded figures were carrying 12-inch blades in their hands, each dripping blood. “P’a’l, what am I looking at?”

“Your father's people, granting us mercy.” His voice was heavy with sorrow. “The Reapers invaded our world in force, and put everyone on those spikes. It...I speak from experience when I say that it truly is a fate worse than death.” P’a’l stepped to the monitor and pointed to a husk near the front of the picture that had come off its spike, and lay crumpled on the ground with its throat slit. “That was me.”

“Oh my God…” Gabriel’s voice was barely above a whisper. “The Reapers turned you into husks?”

“Yes. The first humanoid-form husks. And we were alive for the whole thing; our souls trapped inside bodies that were neither dead nor alive. When I told you that my brother is imprisoned, I was serious. Every Ki’ith’aar husk was hunted down and destroyed, their souls freed. All save my brother’s.”

Gabriel turned and squatted to get a better look at the husk that was K’a’l. There were gashes and holes on its body, and its eye sockets had burns around them. “They tried to free you,” Gabriel whispered. The husk looked up at him and nodded slowly.

“Yes,” P’a’l said. “They all did. But this husk--Harbinger ordered something special done to my brother. The nanides that created the husk persist, and work much faster than normal. Any damage is repaired or routed around, effectively creating an indestructible object. It’s a fate that I believe Harbinger intends for your brother...or for you.” P’a’l sighed deeply. “My brother… Israfel spent forty days and nights in here after she captured K’a’l. She was inconsolable, Gabriel. She still comes to visit him, as you have seen. He manages to assert control, with the help of this containment field, powered by the grace of archangels. But fighting the nanides is taxing. So most of the time he is inert.”

The husk of K’a’l sat up and pressed its forehead against the glass before Gabriel, who looked quizzically at it. “Uhh…what is he doing?”

“He’s acknowledging you as his son. The touching of foreheads is a gesture of affection for a loved one, among our people.”

  
Gabriel sighed deeply. “I…” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the forcefield, which rippled in response. “I know what I need to do now,” he remarked. “You will be free again, K’a’l of House A’s’th’.” Gabriel stood. “Even if it kills me.” He turned on his heel and walked down the Hall, leaving the two brothers in silence.


	25. Double Agent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heavenly mole-hunt intensifies, and K'a'l comes to his wife's defence. Israfel is forced to use her relationship with Hackett to keep the war effort from collapsing in one stroke--and decides to have The Talk sooner, rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Kesafat" is Farsi for "shit!"

> _Izzy,_
> 
> _Hall of the 21st. Come ASAP._
> 
> _G_

 

“Kesafat!”

Hackett quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Lieutenant?”

Israfel straightened up. “No sir. Sorry--I thought I had shut off the notifications on my Omni-Tool. Wasn’t expecting to get a text.” Her face reddened a bit as she held out the datapad she had in her hand. “I’ve got the latest troop reports, and I believe Commander Shepard had an update that he wanted to give you on the tertiary QEC.”

Hackett nodded and took the datapad. “Has he been able to find his missing Irregulars?” He looked up at his aide-de-camp. “For that matter, have _we_ been able to find them?”

The junior officer shook her head. “Neither hide nor hair except for their super-biotic. Wherever Cerberus has the Winchester brothers, they’re hidden from God and everybody.” Hackett stood and casually half-tossed the datapad on his desk, then reached for his service cap.

“Go answer your message, Lieutenant Benson. I’ll go talk to the Commander and see what he’s got to say.” The Admiral patted his aide on the shoulder and smiled slightly, then put his cap on and walked out of his office. Israfel waited for the door to close, and vanished in a rush of wings.

  
  


**SSV Normandy**

 

Shepard keyed the QEC. His scar blazed crimson down his right jawline. He clenched his hands into fists as he took a deep breath and held it. Exhaling, he felt the heat of his scar fade as the image of Admiral Hackett appeared.

“Commander, I understand you have an update for me?” Hackett crossed his arms loosely and shifted his weight onto one leg.

“Yes sir.” Shepard sighed and scratched his forehead. “We managed to corral Castiel, finally--but Kaidan almost died from the strain of helping Liara hold him in stasis. He’s stable now.”

Hackett raised an eyebrow. “And Castiel?”

“In the brig, wearing inhibitor cuffs. I haven’t gone to talk to him yet--mostly because I don’t want to do something that’ll get me court-martialed.” Hackett let out a slight chuckle at the quip. “I’m going to let him cool his heels,” Shepard continued,  ”and then go talk to him after I’ve checked on Kaidan.”

“A wise move,” Hackett said with a nod. “I know that Major Alenko means a lot to you personally, Commander, but at the same time I don’t think he’d want you to alienate one of the galaxy’s best assets, especially after that asset single-handedly dealt a significant blow to Cerberus and their operations. Have you learned anything about the whereabouts of the Winchesters?”

Shepard shook his head and grimaced. “No, sir. Castiel tracked Sam and Dean as far as he could, but the trail apparently went cold before we brought him in.” He sighed and crossed his arms. “I hate this, sir. The brothers have been a damn good thing for us--if Cerberus has turned them…”

“I know, Commander. But we can’t worry about that right now. Focus on what we have and what we can still bring together. And if Castiel can help us find more of his people...”

“Admiral, the angels--whatever and whoever they are--don’t want to be found. They may have brought Castiel and the Winchesters here, but I have a feeling that if they wanted to show themselves, they’d have done it already.” Shepard shrugged. “I’d rather not waste time chasing after a myth when we can spend that time fighting the Reapers.”

“Good point.” Hackett nodded. “I’ll let you get back to it, Commander. Hackett out.” The image of Hackett vanished, leaving Shepard standing in the near-dark of the comms room. Shepard sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, and looked up toward the ceiling.

“I don’t know if any of you angels can hear me, but this is Stannis Shepard. I know you’re out there, but I don’t know why you don’t want to be found. I appreciate you guys sending us the Winchesters, but if you’re really helping us do you think you can send some kind of sign?”

A gentle hand on his right shoulder made Shepard spin around and throw up his barrier. Kaidan yanked his hand back quickly. “Whoa! Stannis, it’s me!” Shepard let out a sigh and slumped a bit as his barrier dropped, and he grabbed Kaidan in a tight embrace.

“Kaidan,” Shepard said softly as they separated. “Is it…?”

Kaidan nodded. “Doctor Chakwas just cleared me to return to duty.” He smiled, looked back over his shoulder for a second, then leaned forward to kiss his lover. “It’s a miracle, Stannis--I can’t even begin to describe it.”  He laughed a bit. “I...I was sure that was it, that I wouldn’t be coming back from this. I felt darkness closing in all around me. And then, like that, it rolled back and…” He looked at Shepard and laughed softly. “Listen to me, I sound like somebody from one of those books about the Winchesters.”

Shepard kissed Kaidan again and reached up to wipe away a tear. “I don’t care, Kaidan. I’m just happy that I don’t have to worry about taking down the Reapers without you. But now I have to go talk to Cas about his little stunt, and explain to him why it’s a bad idea to leave the house without telling anyone.”

  
  


**Heaven**

**Hall of the 21st Cycle**

 

“Gabriel?” Israfel walked swiftly down the darkened hall. “I got here as quickly as I could--what’s going on?”

Gabriel looked up from where he was sitting next to the husk of K’a’l. “How strong is this shielding?” he asked abruptly, nodding toward the display case. The husk sat motionless in its case.

“It’s designed to block all the electromagnetic frequencies that the Reapers use to indoctrinate. No one--angel or mortal--can be indoctrinated by the husk that imprisons my husband’s soul.”

Gabriel rubbed his chin. “And of course, any of the angels can come down this Hall,” he said quietly. He got up and held something out to Israfel. “Do you recognize this?”

Israfel took the item and looked at it. It was a small cylinder one-quarter inch long with prongs on either end. “Yes--this...Oh my God, what did you do to the shielding array?”

Gabriel crossed his arms. “I did nothing. My understanding is that this part is supposed to be infused with a small amount of grace--specifically, grace from fifteen angels who were specially marked by God and elevated to the rank of Archangel.” His expression hardened. “You’ll notice that the grace that was inside this tiny cylinder has been replaced with eezo. If you look closely, you’ll also see that the tiny Reaper trap inscribed on it has been defaced, rendering it useless.”

“Somebody tam--wait.” The archangel’s eyes widened. “How did you know what was in this?”

“I told him, Israfel.” Israfel turned to see P’a’l standing by a display of pottery, arms crossed and staring coldly at her. “I was there when you and the other Exiles built this with Azrael's help, as you recall. And as your _ki’ith’s’h’i_ , your brother, I believe that I deserve to know the truth--did you tamper with it?”

Israfel’s jaw dropped. “Absolutely not! P’a’l, you know that this was built to protect my husband--to protect all of us. It was meant to keep Heaven safe from the Reapers by blocking any communication with his husk!” She sank to her knees before the display case that was the husk’s prison. “K’a’l…” the husk stirred and looked up at her as she put her hands on the glass. “Best-beloved, did you see who did this?”

The husk shifted to its knees and put its hands against the glass of its case for a moment. It sat back on its heels and clawed at one arm. Black ichor infused with eezo oozed from its skin, and the husk daubed the claws of its free hand in the wound, then started to draw a set of pictograms on the glass.

Gabriel uncrossed his arms and activated his barrier. P’a’l swiftly moved next to him and put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Wait,” the soul whispered. “My brother is in control.” The half-angel clenched his fists and waited as the husk continued to draw in its own ichor. The first set of pictograms completed, the husk drew three sets of Enochian characters before sitting back and looking expectantly at the soul and the angel standing before it..

“P’a’l, I don’t recognise what he wrote.” Israfel looked up at her brother in law.

“Come back here.” P’a’l and Israfel looked up to see Gabriel motioning from where he had walked behind the display case. He motioned to the Enochian characters. “The first set is the word “drix”, to bring down; but I don’t recognize that second set of characters--or ee zod pa un...“

Israfel blanched. “You've got to be fucking kidding.”

Gabriel looked at his father. “What?”

“ _Orizaba.”_

The younger Shepard’s eyes widened. “You’re shitting me.  So what’s the first thing he wrote?”

“A’neth’k,” P’a’l commented. “It’s a reference to one of the myths of our people,” he explained when Gabriel looked at him. “A’neth’k was a great builder and engineer, who created cities in the stars and was close to Y’ki’ith--the god who nurtured our people when they first came up out of the Waters of Creation.” He sighed. “But it was all a ruse, and he betrayed Y’ki’ith to the enemies of the gods, who destroyed him and scattered his remains across the universe, where they became the seeds of all races.” The soul looked up at Gabriel. “Their story is in the Hall of the 20th Cycle,” he said grimly. “The third set of characters, is also Enochian, but I don’t recognize it.”

The pair stood in the dark, looking down at what the husk had written. “Oh shit. Izzy,” Gabriel said quietly, “He just named the…” he looked up, and where Israfel had been standing there was a single feather floating to the floor.

  
  


**SSV** **_Orizaba_ **

**Engine Room**

 

“Hey, Halstead.” Camael looked up from his work to see Chief Faber looking down at him. Faber brushed a stray lock of mousy brown hair from her face and rubbed her bleary brown eyes as she stifled a yawn. “Sorry, just rolled out of the rack. I’ll take over on that panel. Chief wants you to go crawling the ducts to replace that busted thermal pipe.” She stifled another yawn.

“Long night?” The wiry blonde man stood and deactivated his Omni-Tool. Faber had a florid heart-shaped face and thin gingery hair that refused to stay completely pinned up, which made her look like she’d been on a bender in the ship’s lounge even though she was stone-cold sober.

“Nah. Just tired, that’s all. Haven’t gotten very good sleep lately.”

Camael nodded. “I get that--that’s life in wartime, no?”  Faber nodded, and the angel moved aside to let her take over. “Anyway--we have our orders, so let’s get to work.” The woman muttered a response and nodded, and Camael went to the duct access hatch. Faber keyed her Omni-Tool to send a message.

  _I’ll have the panel ready by the time you’re in position,_ Faber sent. _For Humanity._

> _For Humanity,_ came the reply from Camael. _God is smiling on us._
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 

**Comm Room**

 

Hackett turned to walk toward the comm room exit, when a blinding white torrent hit him in the face. He felt energy filling him, seeping into every pore. He staggered and dropped to a knee under the onslaught. Amid a blizzard of sound, he heard a voice.

_Forgive me for barging in without asking, old friend, but there’s no time for an explanation and Lt. Benson can only park in the head for so long before somebody starts bitching. We need to get our ass to Engineering so we can save the ship from a Cerberus mole--and I swear to you Steven, I will tell you everything before day’s end._

Hackett’s eyes glowed briefly. He reached down and picked up his service cap from the floor, then stood and walked out the door.

The comms chief raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay sir?”

“Just a little trip, Chief.” Hackett put his cap on. “First day on the new feet.” The Admiral smiled, and the Chief chuckled and saluted. “As you were Chief,” Hackett said, returning the salute before he got on the lift to Engineering.

  


**Engineering sub-deck**

 

Engineering Chief Cameron Halstead slithered out of the duct and slowly got to his feet. He started brushing dust off his pants, when the sound of wings made him look up to see several lithe figures standing before him in the near-dark, dressed in dark grey hooded catsuits. Their leader stepped forward and pushed back his hood, regarding him with a fierce glare.

“Kael,” the blonde engineer said with a smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Faber’s body was thrown to the deck in front of him by one of the still-hooded angels. Her eyes had been burned out, and burns traced the lines of implants in her head and upper body. “We took care of your accomplice, Camael,” Kael said. His almond-shaped green eyes blazed with ire and a ripple of static crackled over his dark hair. “Go remove the device,” he said to one of the other angels. The angelic infiltrator nodded and crawled into the duct. “You and that Cerberus agent were going to destroy the entire Fifth Fleet and half of the Mass Relay network--and for what? Do you _want_ to see Creation get turned into those metallic abominations?”

“Abominations? Please!” Camael spat at his brother’s feet. “The true abomination is commanding the _Normandy_ . And don’t even get me started on that _thing_ pollu--” His words were cut short by a sharp punch to the face. Camael staggered under the blow and immediately put a hand to his nose.

“Don’t you _dare_ talk that way about our best hopes for victory,” Kael hissed. Camael held his bloody nose and glared at his brother. “Where are the Winchesters?” Kael grabbed his traitorous brother by the shirtfront and got up in his face. “We know that you’re the one who leaked the Noveria mission to Cerberus so they could capture the brothers. Where. Are. They?”

“They’re engaging in the Winchester family business,” Camael replied, voice dripping with contempt. “Saving humans, hunting monsters like that little lavender slu--” Kael angrily headbutted his brother and threw him to the deck. Camael spat blood and teeth onto the decking, and looked up at his brother and his recon team as he got up on his hands and knees. “Come on, Kael. You know it’s true. We were created to help _humans_ , not beasts.”

“Is that why you decided to join Cerberus, Chief Halstead?” The gravelly voice of Admiral Hackett cut through the air like a buzzsaw as he came down the steps. "Because you see our Father's creations as animals unless they're human?"

Camael looked up at the Admiral, and smiled. “My sister’s puppet--did she convince you to spawn another abomination to ‘save the galaxy’?” Camael laughed softly. “Heh, I told Cerberus all about Heaven. Told them about the Nephilim. Imagine their surprise when they realized that they’d had an abomination of their own...and they just let him go.”

Hackett squatted in front of Camael and looked at him. “I’m told that your brother-in-law gave you up, Camael. He saw you sabotage the containment unit.”

The agent Kael had sent to dismantle Camael’s bomb crawled from the ducts and handed Kael the device. “Powered by grace,” the hooded angel said. “The grace that got taken from the containment unit in the Master Library, if I had to guess. It would have destroyed this system and caused a backlash that would have destroyed half the relay network--including the system where the Crucible is being built.”

Camael laughed. Hackett’s eyes glowed brightly for a second, and he yanked the bloodied angel to his feet with a snarl. “The Winchesters, Camael. Where did Cerberus take them?”

Camael snorted. “And so my sister wears her Admiral suit again.” He spat in Israfel’s face. “Go to hell, you blasphemous whore.” Israfel-as-Hackett glared into the traitorous angel’s eyes and concentrated. He sighed, and let go of his brother.

“Indoctrinated--what a fucking waste,” Israfel said. “Your vessel deserved so much better than you gave him.” The archangel wearing an Admiral’s body clapped a hand on Camael’s head, and fire sprang from the traitor’s eyes and mouth. Camael shrieked in agony as he burned away to nothing, leaving Israfel standing there looking down at the deck. “Chief Faber,” he asked in Hackett's gravelly tenor, looking back over his shoulder. “Was she indoctrinated?”

Kael nodded sadly. “Yeah, Izzy. She was.” Israfel sighed deeply, and Kael put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Israfel nodded.

“I once swore I would never shed angelic blood, Kael. So much for my promises,” Israfel said, voice heavy with sadness. “See to Chief Faber’s remains. She didn’t have any family, so Steven won’t have to write a letter...this time.” He rubbed his chin for a moment. “I’ve got to go. I need to give my friend his body back so we can have a talk that I’d hoped would wait until the end of the War.” 

“Go on, Izzy,” Kael said softly. “We’ll clean up from here. What do you want us to do with the device?”

“Extract the grace from it,” Israfel replied. “Gabriel will need it to repair K’a’l’s containment unit. Then destroy the device, please.”

Kael nodded, and he and his team vanished with Chief Faber’s corpse. Israfel sighed at the burnt spot on the floor that marked where Camael had been standing, and turned to walk out of Engineering.

  
  


> _From: UNKNOWN ADDRESS_
> 
> _To: Liara T’soni_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Liara,_
> 
> _Just wanted to let you know: we found the Cerberus mole. I mourn the loss of my brother, but the alternative was far too horrible to even consider._
> 
> _Thank you for your help, Liara. I will always be appreciative. When this war is over, I hope we can meet and have drinks. One spymaster to another._
> 
> _Yo_ _urs,_
> 
> _Cadfael_

  
  


**Captain’s Loft**

 

“You remember now.”  Lt. Benson reached up and touched Admiral Hackett’s forehead with the first two fingers of her right hand.

Hackett blinked, and in place of his aide he saw a radiant, powerfully-built bronze skinned being with flaming eyes, a face crackling with lightning, and an enormous pair of wings. A shining white mark stood out on the being’s forehead. “Israfel?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

The angel nodded. “Hello old friend,” she said in Lt. Benson’s voice. “It’s time we had that chat I promised you.”


	26. Bravado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team gets a very unpleasant surprise when they get to Thessia.

**SSV** **_Normandy_ **

 

Castiel sighed deeply. Shepard let him out of the brig without saying a word, his burning red scar the only indicator that he was still angry about what happened to Kaidan. Kaidan met the angel when he got to the Engineering deck. “Stannis will calm down,” the Marine said. “As for me, well. I forgive you, for what it’s worth. And I was asked to give you a message.”

 

“A message?”  Kaidan nodded. “What kind of message?” Castiel asked.

 

Kaidan rubbed his forehead for a moment. “Let me see if I can remember it correctly, I was kind of unconscious and trying not to die when I got it. Umm… ‘You’re free to make your own decisions, but don’t make your decisions in a vacuum.’ And please don’t ask me who asked me to pass it on, because I don’t know.” The biotic reached out and put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Cas--do you remember the conversation we all had in Shepard’s quarters a while back? About how we’ve got the power to get things done thanks to us believing in each other?” Castiel nodded, and Kaidan smiled. “I think that message is the same kind of thing. So you didn’t find the other angels--big deal. We’re here, and with your help we’re still getting shit done. And we  _ will _ find Sam and Dean, together.”

 

Castiel chuckled a bit. “You sound like Stannis,” he quipped.

 

“I learned from the best,” Kaidan replied. “Look, Cas--I don’t know how I recovered so quickly. Maybe an angel healed me and whispered that message in my ear, I dunno. But whatever happened, I’m grateful--and for what it's worth, I forgive you. But right now? Right now, I’m going to get back in the fight, and I want my strange friend who’s not from around here to get back into the fight with me.”

 

“Thanks, Kaidan.” The two of them smiled and shook hands.

 

Kaidan patted Castiel on the shoulder. “Good man. We’re heading to Thessia, but it’ll be a few hours before we get there. So go grab a nap. EDI will wake you up in time to grab your gear.” Castiel nodded, and Kaidan turned and got on the elevator, leaving the angel to go belowdecks.

  
  
  


**Castiel**

 

“So what do you think?” Jimmy sat back on the easy chair and put his feet up on the ottoman. “An angel came and healed him?”

“I don’t know.” Castiel sighed deeply. He lay on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. He shifted to look at Jimmy. “I’m dreaming, right?”

 

Jimmy nodded. “Yeah. Best place for us to talk.” He sighed. “Look, Castiel--I know you miss Dean. But what if he’s indoctrinated by now? What are you going to do, try to dismantle the rest of Cerberus to kill him?” Castiel turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “Well?”

 

“I’ll make it up as I go along.”

 

The soul of Castiel’s vessel shrugged. “Fair enough,” he replied. “Honestly, if it was Amelia that was indoctrinated...I don’t know if I could find the strength to do it. It would be merciful, sure--and it would be the right thing, too. But I don’t think I could bear the thought of killing somebody I love more than life itself, Cas.”

 

Castiel sat up. He reached over and took Jimmy’s hand. “I know how you feel...my friend. I’ve killed brothers without a second thought, because it was what I had to do. But Dean? I don’t know if I could do it when the time came.” He sighed deeply, the sound coming out as a feline trill. 

 

The angel opened his eyes to see Ninja standing over him with an inquisitive expression on his face. “Mrrt?” Castiel chuckled and reached up to give the little cat a scratch behind the ears.

 

“Is it time to wake up now, little cat?” Castiel smiled as Ninja nosed him.

 

“Yeah it is.” 

 

Castiel looked up to see Shepard standing in the entry to the sub-deck. Ninja hopped down, trotted over to rub up against Shepard’s leg, then hopped up on Dean’s cot, where he curled up and went to sleep. Castiel sat up and looked over at Shepard. “Stannis…”

 

Shepard put up a hand. “It’s okay, Cas--you’re here now, and Kaidan’s okay. He forgives you...and so do I. Go up and grab your gear, we'll be on the ground in 30.”  He turned and went up the stairs, leaving the angel and the cat in silence.

  
  


**Thessia**

**3 hours later**

  
  


“Indoctrinated presence detected. Deactivating.” 

 

Before Shepard could say anything, the Prothean VI deactivated itself and retreated to the beacon as bright lights illuminated the group from the temple entrance. Shepard turned and shielded his eyes, and saw a figure strolling toward them, dressed in polished armour that looked like black leather. His eyes were solid black. “What the…”

 

Castiel’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my God…” He took a step forward, but Kaidan grabbed him.

 

“Cas, wait.” Castiel looked at Kaidan for a moment, and the biotic Marine shook his head slightly. “Get ready for a fight,” he whispered.

 

Dean Winchester smirked at the group. “What, not even a hi, Cas?” he snarked. “Why, I’m just hurt.”

 

“What are you doing here, Dean?” Liara took a step forward. “Where’s Sam?”

 

“Don’t really know,” Dean said with a shrug. “Don’t much care, either. I’m just here to deliver a message.”

 

Shepard arched an eyebrow. “A message? From whom?”  Dean held out his hand, palm-up, and a drone materialized from the palm of his gauntlet. The drone floated toward Shepard and materialized into the holographic form of a man in a business suit with eyes that looked like robotic implants. “You’ve got to be shitting me…”

 

“Commander,” the Illusive Man said, “you have something I need.” 

 

“The Catalyst.”  

 

The hologram walked toward the beacon and looked up at it. “It’s the key to controlling the Reapers,” he said.

 

“Are you out of your mind?!” Shepard snapped. “You can’t control them!”

 

“I beg to differ,” the Illusive man replied calmly. “The Reapers are the key to Humanity’s destiny--one that I would have thought your biotic friend over there would be fighting for.”

 

“It’s not just humans at stake,” Castiel growled. “This isn’t about just Earth. This is about the entire galaxy--this is about _Creation_. Why won’t you look at the larger picture?”

 

“And who’s to say that I’m not?” The Illusive Man strode back toward Dean. “Dean, the Commander has something I need. Relieve him of it, please.” The hologram shrank back into a drone, and Dean collected it.

 

“You heard the man,” Dean said. “We can do this the easy way, or do it the hard way.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of blue and somersaulted back as Castiel flew through the space he'd been standing in. “Okay then,” he shouted, “Looks like the hard way!”  Two Cerberus gunships popped up, and the team from the  _ Normandy _ dove for cover. “Hit the supports,” Dean radioed. “Bring this temple down on their heads!” A flurry of rockets shot out from the gunships and slammed into the temple’s support columns. The temple started to shake, and Dean ran up on Shepard, who levelled his pistol at him. The hunter barrelled into his former commanding officer with superhuman strength, knocking the Spectre to the side and dazing him with a sharp punch to the face. The floor collapsed under Shepard, who started to fall into the chasm underneath.

 

“Castiel!” Shepard’s call was answered by a flash of blue as Castiel swooped in and grabbed him. The angel lifted Shepard out of the crevasse just in time to see Dean extract the Prothean VI from the beacon. Dean looked at Shepard and Castiel, and gave them a casual salute.

 

“Thanks for making my job easy, Shep! Have fun dying!” Dean strode out of the temple and boarded one of the gunships, which took off. Kaidan and Liara ran out of the temple, firing wildly at the retreating gunships as screams of dying commandos and calls for help came over the comms.

  
  


**SSV** **_Normandy_ **

**Comms Room**

  
  


Shepard stood at the door of the comms room, watching the blinking light. Castiel walked up and put a hand on his Commander’s shoulder.

 

“Stannis,” the angel said softly. “You really should answer that. The longer we wait, the harder it will be.”

 

“I know. Thanks.” He sighed and walked up, then toggled on the comm. Councilor Tevos appeared, hands clasped expectantly and a look of concern on her face.

 

“Commander,” the Asari Councilor queried, “What happened on Thessia? Did you find the Catalyst?”

 

Shepard’s shoulders fell. “We did--but Cerberus beat us to the punch. They have the Catalyst.” He took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Madame Councilor.”

 

“I see.” Tevos bit her lip. “I’m...there are plans I need to see to, Commander. Continuity of civilization… Our family. I’m sorry, Commander Shepard. I know that you did your best.” The image vanished, leaving Shepard and Castiel standing there in the near-dark.

 

“This isn’t over,” Castiel said. “Not by a long shot.”

 

Shepard straightened up and looked at him. His scar flared despite the half-smile on his face. “I know. Thanks.” He turned and took a deep breath before stalking out of the comms room to stand at the top of the War Room’s bowl. 

 

“Shepard,” EDI said. “The Reapers have totally overrun this system. It is no longer safe for us to stay here.”

 

Shepard slammed his palms down on the railing in front of him. “FUCK THAT! I’m sick and fucking tired of Cerberus getting the drop on us! They turned Dean, probably turned Sam as well--and now they have the one thing that would have ended this fucking war. I want to know where Dean went. I want to know where Sam is. I want the Catalyst. Answers, people. Anyone?”

 

Traynor and EDI looked at each other. EDI nodded, and Traynor stepped forward to start punching in commands on a console at the holoprojector. “I think I may have something, Commander.” She bit her lip. “A Cerberus frigate departed from Thessia right before it was overrun--I tracked their emissions through the relay...and the trail dead-ends here, in the Lera system.”

 

“I was stationed on Horizon in the Lera system,” Kaidan commented. “Stannis, you were the only Cerberus presence there.”

 

“It is unclear what Cerberus would be doing in that system,” EDI stated. “But it is definitely worth investigating.” Castiel looked at EDI and raised an eyebrow. “When Shepard was killed by the Collectors,” EDI explained, “Cerberus resurrected him.”

 

“And I used them and their resources to stop the Collectors from taking human colonists and melting them down to build a Reaper,” Shepard responded, “before high-tailing it back to the Alliance with this ship and everything on it. Traynor,” he continued, looking over at his comms tech. “That was a damn good job." He exhaled softly, and the scar on his jaw faded. "Thank you.”

 

“So now we know where Dean went at least,” Kaidan said. “I say we take the fight to Cerberus.”

 

“Yeah,” Vega exclaimed, “It’s time we kicked  _ them _ in the balls for once!”

 

Shepard nodded and drew himself up to his full height. “I agree,” he said, blue-green eyes blazing. “EDI, you and Joker set a course. The rest of you, to your stations.” He felt a biotic crackle of static next to him, and reached out to grab Castiel by the shoulder. “And you,” he said, looking at the angel, “Get your ass to the armoury with Kaidan, James, and Garrus. We’re going as a team to find the Winchesters. Understand?”

  
Castiel nodded. “Yes sir. Kaidan,” he said, “I’ll meet you there.” The angel vanished in a rush of wings and a whiff of ozone as the rest of the crew filed out of the War Room.


	27. Free Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel makes a very important decision--and acknowledges his parentage.

**Heaven**

**Gabriel’s Apartment**

  
A tiny iridium cylinder sat in a glass holder on the tabletop. The prongs on the end glowed white as grace flowed into it from a vial in the base of the holder. As the last of the grace migrated into the cylinder, a reaper trap inscribed on the cylinder brightened. The cylinder began to hum faintly.

“There.” Gabriel looked up from the cylinder. “It’s done. All I need to do is put this back in the containment unit, and Camael’s sabotage should be reversed.”  Gabriel reached out and gently removed the cylinder from the holder, carefully fitting it into a small housing marked with Enochian sigils. He closed the door of the housing, and the sigils rippled as grace began to circulate through them. “And...done.” He looked across the table to where his angelic parent was sitting, watching him work. “Thanks for letting me do this, Izzy.”

Israfel smiled. “You were the one who discovered the sabotage. So it seemed right that you be allowed to fix it.” Gabriel got up from the table with the housing in his hand, and Israfel got up to walk to the door with him. “I still can’t believe…” The angel wiped her hands as if trying to remove a stain.

  
“Izzy…” Gabriel said as the pair walked into the starry hallway that led to the Master Library. “It had to be done. I know, you told me that you swore to never shed angelic blood unless you absolutely had to--and it came down to letting Camael live, or letting a shitload of people die, many of them dying before they even got to see what was outside of their worlds.” He looked over and saw the angel’s crestfallen expression. “You made the right call," Gabriel said, his voice quiet and reassuring. "You kept your promise.”

“I know, but…Shit.” Israfel opened the door, and she and her son got on the lift to the Library floor. “You know, you sound--”

  
“Like my brother?” Gabriel chuckled. “I understand him better, now. Reading through his mission reports--hell, reading what he said about _me_ , even after I tried to kill him and take the _Normandy_ from him…” He sighed. “I have my own regrets,” he said as the lift reached the Library floor where P’a’l waited for them.

“And you assuage those regrets through service,” P’al said with a slight smile. “I heard the tail end of your conversation on the way down.”

Israfel gave her brother-in-law a half-smile. “Ceremonial battledress today, P’a’l?” The soul was barechested. His garb had changed from a cassock to a white silken sash embroidered with metallic blue threads and freshwater pearls, over a loose pair of similarly-adorned trousers. His eezo tattoos shimmered under the lights of the Library’s central reading area.

The soul nodded in response. “I felt like a change--good thing I have access to an infinite wardrobe. I’m also going to go visit some of our ancestors--I figured I should try to make a good impression.” He bowed slightly. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said as he turned and walked out of the Library core.

Israfel opened the door to the Hall of the 21st Cycle, and Gabriel walked through the open door carrying the containment unit housing in both hands. The two of them walked down the hall in silence. When they reached the display case, the husk inside stood and watched them. Gabriel got down on his hands and knees and opened a door at the rear of the display’s base, then carefully slid the containment unit inside. The unit It settled into place with a soft click, and the force field shimmered into place over the display case again. Gabriel stood and brushed his trousers off. “And it’s done,” he said. “One of my many fathers is safe again.”

The husk pressed its forehead against the glass of the case. Israfel leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the force field, followed by Gabriel.

“Izzy…” Gabriel sighed deeply. He pulled up a chair that was sitting by one of the shelves. “This seems as good a place as any to have a chat,” he said as he took a seat.

Israfel pulled up her own chair. “What’s on your mind?”

Gabriel looked over at K’a’l, then back to Israfel. “I want to talk about the war. My place in it.” He sat back and sighed again.

“It’s about your brother, isn’t it?” Gabriel nodded slowly. “Son,” Israfel said, “You have a chance at your own life--your own destiny, that you can write for yourself outside of this war. Stannis has his destiny already.”

“If my namesake were here, I think he would say that he and the Winchesters proved that destiny isn’t exactly immutable.” Gabriel smiled slightly. “Israfel…” He took the angel’s hands in his. “...Father.” Gabriel paused for a moment. “Sorry, it still feels strange to call you that when you’re in that vessel. Even so--I know what’s coming. It’s not something I can fully articulate, but you and I both know that I am not the man you need for that job.” He sighed. “Come on, you know that my birth wasn’t intended. I may be a happy accident, but I’m an accident all the same--and I don’t have the experience that Stannis has. You’re _going_ to need him. When the time comes, let me take up his burden. Please.”

Israfel looked down at the floor. Tears welled in her eyes, and she took a deep breath. A knock on the glass made her look up to see K’a’l looking back at her. The husk nodded and put a hand over the roundel marking where its heart used to be.

“Let me think about it,” Israfel said softly. “This...well, it’s not an easy decision that you’re asking me to make.” Gabriel stood up from his chair and came over to kiss the angel on the forehead.  


“I know,” he whispered. “But in the end it’ll be the right one.” The nephilim smiled down at his father and walked away toward the Hall's exit.

Another knock from K’a’l drew Israfel’s attention. The husk clasped its hands over its heart and pressed its forehead against the glass again.

“I love you as well,” Israfel whispered. She stood and stepped to the display case.The field rippled slightly as she pressed her forehead against it.  


“Do you think he’s right, husband?” The husk nodded slowly, and the angel sighed. “Never make decisions in a vacuum...Heh. I need to return to my duties, my love--those reports won't collate themselves.”

  
K’a’l nodded and looked down at the floor.  Israfel pressed her forehead against the forcefield one more time, and vanished. 


	28. Jacob's Ladder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horizon.

 

**Sam**

 

The door to the lounge opened. Sam looked up from his book to see Azrael enter. “We’ve got two problems,” she said. “Which do you want to hear about first?”

Sam slowly closed his book and set it on the table next to his chair. “Umm...the...problem?” 

“Dean’s here.” Sam jumped up from his chair, and Azrael quickly leapt in front of him and placed a hand on his chest. “Wait. He’s indoctrinated, and full of implants. But that’s not all--the Reapers are here too. Whatever Cerberus was working on, the Reapers want to shut it down. Wait, let me finish,” she said when Sam opened his mouth to speak. “I managed to get us out of containment when some Cerberus fucks came to terminate you. We’re hiding in a sealed research lab. There’s somebody else here--human, and unindoctrinated as near as I can tell--but I don’t recognise her. She doesn’t seem hostile, but I--” Azrael vanished for a second, then reappeared. “Go drive. I’ve got this.”

  


**Sanctuary**

**Research Lab 4A**

 

“Wake up!”

Sam’s eyes snapped open and he sprang up to see a woman standing in front of him in a white catsuit. “Who are you?!” he demanded as he grabbed a desk lamp and brandished it in front of him.

The woman let loose a biotic burst. The burst staggered Sam, making him drop the lamp as the woman quickly drew a heavy pistol on him. “Miranda Lawson,” she said. “Who are you?”

“My name is Sam Winchester. Cerberus had captured me and my brother on Noveria, and they brought me here. What are you doing here, anyw--” Sam froze when he saw Miranda raise her pistol to his face. “Uhh...what are you doing?”

Miranda narrowed her eyes slightly. “You said you were captured by Cerberus. That means you’ve more than likely had implants put in you and God only knows what else done.”

Sam raised his hands. “Umm, okay…? Look, Miranda--if it’ll help I’ll lock myself in this room and hope that Stannis finds me. But it’s a really bad idea to be running around here alone with my brother--who _is_ indoctrinated--on the loose. If you want me to be unarmed, fine. But we’d be better off together than separated. You can put a slug in my skull when we’re done if you still don’t trust me.”

Miranda stared at Sam for several long moments before finally lowering her pistol. “Fine. Grab a rifle and come with me. But I’ll be watching you.” She punctuated her statement by flaring her barrier, then walked out of the lab and beckoned Sam to follow. “You already know that this is a Cerberus facility,” she said. She looked back over her shoulder for a moment. “I’ve come to make sure that it’s shut down, and deal with the man behind it once and for all.”

The pair rounded a corner, and spotted a handful of husks and cannibals. “Shit,” Miranda whispered as they got into cover. Sam punched up a function on his Omni-Tool.

“What do you think--Overload to stun them?”

Miranda pointed to a location near the group. Sam looked and saw an armature holding a glowing purple crystal.

“There. A well-placed Overload or shot will detonate that crystal,” Miranda said. “The explosion should take them out.”

Sam nodded and toggled his Omni-Tool. He took aim at the crystal and unleashed a heavy Overload charge. The crystal exploded. Shards of crystal shrapnel shredded the bodies of the Reaper creatures, and Sam and Miranda hustled down the corridor to another laboratory.  

“Cover me,” Miranda said. “I need to leave a message for anyone who finds this thing.”  Sam nodded and took cover across from the door as Miranda began speaking. “This is Miranda Lawson. If you’re seeing this, then I’ve got information that you can’t ignore. I’ve got proof that my father, Henry Lawson, is working with the Illusive Man…”

Sam bit his lip. “Castiel,” he whispered, “if you can pick this up, it’s Sam--I’m not indoctrinated, and I’m with Miranda Lawson. Stick with Shepard, if you’re on-planet. He needs you. I’ll be fine...it’s a long story.”

“Sam?”

Sam looked over to see Miranda giving him an odd look. “Are you okay?” she asked. “ I saw you whispering to yourself.” She reached for her gun, and Sam nodded.

“I’m fine--sending a prayer to my friend Castiel, if he’s here.”

Miranda arched an eyebrow. “Right, the biotic that makes himself look like an angel.” She levelled her gun at him. “So how do I know for certain you’re not indoctrinated like your brother?” Sam took a step from the doorway, and Miranda flared her barrier. “Not another step!”

Sam put up his hands. “What will it take for you to believe that I’m not indoctrinated?”

Miranda narrowed her eyes and said nothing. Her grip on the trigger tightened a bit, and Sam blinked.

 

**Sam**

 

“Awww shit…” Azrael grimaced and rubbed her forehead as the force field in Sam’s mind wavered. “We have a problem.”  The angel staggered, and Sam ran up to catch her.

“What? What’s going on?”

Azrael turned to Sam. Her face was ashen, her eyes wide with fear. “Sam, we gotta get these implants out of you ASAP. The Reapers and all the Cerberus garbage in your body are double-teaming me, and I don’t have the power to handle it much longer.”

Sam gripped Azrael by the shoulders and fixed her with a determined gaze. “Okay,” he said. “What do I need to do?” Azrael grimaced and reached up to put her hands on Sam’s shoulders.

“Be safe.” Her eyes glowed, and Sam’s world went dark. Warmth surrounded him, and Azrael’s voice echoed through the void. “I’m going to try to get Miranda to help us. I had to make your space as compact as I could to buy us time, in case she says no--which means I’ll have to run on fumes. Sam, if I fail and I can’t get those implants out of you...we both die.” The angel’s voice wavered as she added, “I’m so very sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Sam whispered, and he felt tears falling on his face.

  


**Sanctuary** **  
** **Level 2D Processing Station**

 

“Miranda.” A mark appeared on Sam’s forehead, and his eyes glowed as a faint shadow of wings appeared on the wall behind him. “It’s okay,” Sam said, raising his hands. The glow subsided as he continued, “Sam’s stepped aside to let me talk to you. My name’s Azrael. I am an Angel of the Lord, I’ve been shielding Sam from Cerberus’ attempts to indoctrinate him, but it’s becoming increasingly harder in this place, especially with Reapers in semi-close proximity. I swear to you, we’re anything but a threat, but if you won’t help then that’s going to change pretty fucking quick and I _won’t_ be able to stop it.”

Miranda backed up toward a nearby medkit, gun still trained on Azrael. The angel dropped to all fours, and glowing spots started to appear under his shirt.

“This really hurts, Miranda--and the longer these damned things stay in Sam’s body, the harder it will be for me to keep shielding him. Please. I really do need...need your help. I’ve got his soul...arrgh.” Azrael gritted his teeth. “...sequestered.” The angel in hunter’s skin looked up at Miranda, tears streaming down his face. “Help...help…” The glowing spots became welts that swelled along Azrael’s spine, and he curled up with his head in his hands.

“Shit.” Miranda quickly holstered her sidearm and grabbed the medkit, her medical instincts taking over. “What do you need me to do?” she asked, taking a deep breath to steel herself as she got a scalpel from the kit.

“The glowing spots--cut down the….gaah! Down the middle of each one.” Azrael hugged himself and looked down at the floor, breath catching as he spoke. “The neural implants...I’ve got them out of Sam’s system, but he has to--ohmygodsonofabitchthatfuckinghurts--have them removed from under the skin. Just cut through the shirt….arrrrh, and pull them out...quickly!” Azrael cried out in a language that didn’t even register in the translation utility on Miranda’s OmniTool as she prepped the largest dose of Medi-Gel that she could dial up.

Miranda slashed through Azrael’s shirt and exposed the glowing blisters on his back. She sliced into each one, popping out small implants surrounded by swirling white energy. As she gently pulled on each implant to remove it, the energy receded back into the angel’s body. Azrael rolled onto his side in a fetal position with his back to Miranda after the last implant came out, and held up a hand. The scientist quickly stood and took two steps back, drawing her pistol and training it on the person whose back she had just sliced open.

“Thirty seconds...please.” The angel’s brow knit in concentration, and Miranda watched each incision slowly close and heal on its own. “Thank you,” Azrael said, panting. The angel sat up, elbows on knees with hands clasped in front of him. The angel looked up at the ceiling, eyes closed with the tracks of tears down his face, and let out a deep sigh. He looked over at Miranda. “I apologize if I scared you. That was fucking painful and...ow, motherfucker...” Azrael slowly stood, using a table next to him as a stability aid. “Sorry--still a bit sore. It’ll pass.”

Miranda nodded. “I don’t know whether to be fascinated or frightened,” she remarked. “Part of me wants to put a bullet in you.” She took another half-step back, and Azrael nodded.

“Understandable. Look, Miranda...I’m sorry. I’d hoped that I could get Sam out of here, find Stannis and the _Normandy_ , and have Dr. Chakwas take the implants out without exposing myself. But...yeah. It’s a long-ass damn story--and, umm…” Azrael looked down at the body he was wearing. “ Shit. To be quite honest, I’ve been in female vessels for so many years that I feel a little uncomfortable in a man’s body. So if it’s all the same to you, can I just let Sam drive from here on out?”

 

**Sam**

 

The darkness receded, and Sam was standing in the _Normandy_ ’s AI core. Azrael waved a hand, and a force field sprang up around a small grey box. She flopped down in a chair next to the force field, and leaned against the wall. “We’re safe,” she said with a sigh. Her face was drawn, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Miranda helped?” Sam asked. Azrael nodded. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Gotta rest,” the angel replied. “Took a lot out of me. But I can keep this--” she nodded back at the greybox “--contained. Smaller space. Easier to deal with.” She looked up at Sam and gave him a tired half-smile. “Your turn to drive. Bring it on home.”

  


**Sanctuary**

**Intake Area**

 

Shepard turned away from the screen to face his squad. Garrus and Kaidan scanned the area for any more Cerberus interlopers, as Castiel stared down at the floor.

“So we’ve got to find Miranda and Oriana,” Shepard remarked. “Cas? You OK?”

Castiel looked up. “What?  Oh, yes--Sam is here. I just got a prayer from him. He said that he’s with a Miranda Lawson, and...that he’s not indoctrinated. He wants me to stick with you.” The angel sighed and spoke a bit louder for the benefit of his squadmates. “But no mention of Dean. So either he’s not here yet, or he’s left already.”

Garrus cocked his sniper rifle as he walked back toward Stannis and Castiel. “Or he’s here and we haven’t found him yet.” The turian looked at Castiel and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Cas, Dean’s my friend too--but I’ve seen him in action. If he’s even half as dangerous now that he’s indoctrinated? Then we need to put him down hard, for his own sake.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Kaidan shrugged and scanned the entry area, back to the rest of his squad, looking through the scope on his assault rifle as he swept it in front of him. “It looks like there aren’t any more Cerberus troops here. Let’s keep looking for a way farther into the facility.”

The group made their way to a pool of water overlooking an open area. Shepard touched a switch next to a ladder that descended into the pool, and the water drained to reveal an access area.

“I wonder why this is here?” Kaidan mused aloud. “This is definitely Reaper tech. What the hell is Cerberus doing?” Shepard acknowledged the questions with a grunt, and moved forward to a security door. He hacked the lock and opened it to reveal what looked like a security station.

Shepard held up a hand. “I’m going to turn on the lights,” he said. “Be ready if anything comes out of the walls or ceiling.”

Garrus tapped Shepard on the shoulder, then  pointed to a terminal in the corner. A picture of Miranda flickered on the screen. “While you do that,” Garrus purred, “I’ll try getting this terminal running so we can see what’s up with Miranda.”

Shepard nodded and walked over to the console in the center of the room. He touched a couple of buttons, and the lights came on in the security station. A flash of movement drew the group’s attention to the triple-glazed security windows on a large corridor that held a series of large processing vats. Shepard walked over to the glass to get a closer look. Without warning, a husk appeared on the other side of the glass, leaping from a darkened corner. The husk was joined by a handful of others, crawling up the window, while others loped elsewhere around the processing facility.

“Dammit!”  Castiel popped his aura. “Say the word, Stannis, an--”

Shepard fixed the angel with a look. “No jumping ahead. We go as a group.” Castiel pursed his lips in frustration. “I’m serious,” Shepard said. “Especially with--”

“Dammit!” All eyes turned to Garrus. “Dean’s here--this terminal shows live security footage. He just came out of nowhere and jumped Sam and Miranda.” Garrus tapped a couple of keys to reverse the camera, and hit replay. The footage showed Sam and Miranda making a sweep of a laboratory, when Dean and a Cerberus assassin dropped from the ceiling behind them.

“And Kai Leng is with him,” Shepard grumbled. “Great.”

Castiel exclaimed, “Stop the footage!” He tapped on Sam’s image on the screen. “See if you can magnify Sam’s face,” he said. Garrus typed a few commands, and the viewscreen zoomed in the image. “What the--oh shit….”

Kaidan looked at his squadmate. “What?”

Castiel looked at Kaidan. “You don’t see the mark on his forehead?” Kaidan shook his head. “It’s an Enochian sigil,” Castiel explained. “We called it the Mark of Death--he’s got an angelic assassin controlling him.”

“Oh great.” Shepard grumbled as he unhooked his shotgun and opened it up. “Let’s roll--we stick together, understand?” He looked at Castiel and quirked an eyebrow. “We’ll find out who that angel is when we catch up to them. From what you told me in the brig, I’m going to guess that’s the angel that sent you an emergency message--so hopefully, they’re not indoctrinated.”

“Understood,” Castiel responded.

Kaidan opened the door out of the security station and fired off a micro-singularity. The projectile sent a couple of husks flying into a larger group. Shepard charged into the group and detonated his barriers. The explosion sent ichorous gibbets of husk flying in all directions.

Castiel popped a barrier over Shepard for a few seconds. A small arc of static crackled over the Commander’s body as his own barrier recharged. The angel flew up with twin SMGs, laying down covering fire as a trio of Marauders dropped from the ceiling. From around the corner came a couple of reaperized Rachni breeders.

A flash of purplish-blue caught drew Garrus’ attention to at the far end of the hall.  “Banshee!” The Turian dialed up AP rounds for his sniper rifle and took aim at the mutated Asari.

“Got her!” Castiel holstered the SMGs and drew his angel blade. He swooped down, taking the Banshee’s head off with a single stroke. The abomination crumbled into ash on the floor. Castiel landed behind a Rachni and stabbed it with the blade. The breeder collapsed, and dissolving into a pool of corrosive yellow-green sludge right as its partner fell to a double-tap from Garrus.

“Good work everyone,” Shepard said when the group reunited at the far end of the processing floor. “Cas, that was probably your last chance to go airborne--from here on out it’s going to be cramped labs. And remember, no jumping ahead. We’ll get to Sam and Miranda.”

  


**Sam**

 

Sam sat looking quietly at a spot on the floor of the observation lounge in his mind. Azrael sat across from him, her expression dark.

“How?!” Sam looked up at his angelic tenant. “How could my brother work for Cerberus, Azrael?”

“Sam…” The angel sighed deeply. “It looked like they gave him a full load of implants--and unlike you, he didn’t have an angel to shield him.” She shook her head sadly and looked out the window. “From that point, it would have been a simple matter of appealing to his hunter’s instincts--saving humans and hunting things that threatened them.” Sam opened his mouth to speak, and Azrael looked back at him. She smacked her face with her palm and sighed. “Shit, that was cold and unnecessary. I should have worded it better. But Sam, if I could have saved Dean from indoctrination, I would have. But right now, I have to compartmentalize. More specifically, _we_ have to focus on you and your crewmates. If there is a way to help your brother, it’ll be found--even if that means destroying the Reapers.”

“Which will kill him.”

“Which _might_ kill him. I’m choosing not to assume worst-case, here.” Azrael leaned forward over and took Sam’s hand. “Hey, look at me please.” Sam looked back at Azrael, who gave him a slight smile. “If Dean were here, what do you think he would want you to do, given that you’re still able to continue the fight alongside your teammates?”

The hunter grimaced. “He’d want me to keep fighting,” he said glumly.

“Then _we_ keep fighting,” Azrael declared. She gave Sam’s hand a squeeze. “We keep fighting, for Dean and for everyone else under the thumb of those metal bastards. And if we find a way to help your brother, we’ll take it. Agreed?”

Sam squeezed Azrael’s hand hard. “Let’s do it.”

“Good.” Sam’s Omni-Tool beeped, and Azrael grunted slightly. “Hmm. Looks like we have more company. Do you want to drive?”

Sam shook his head. “No. I...no. You drive.”

Azrael nodded and leaned over to kiss Sam on the forehead. “I’m honoured to be your companion, Sam. I just want you to know that.” The angel smiled and vanished.

  


**Sanctuary**

**Central Research Tower**

 

“Fine,” Henry Lawson snarled as he flung Oriana at her sister. “Now, do we have a deal?”

A blue streak flew past Shepard’s head, a piledriving biotic blast that sent the Cerberus scientist flying backwards through the glass. Henry Lawson plummeted to his death on the floor of the processing facility, and Shepard looked back to see Miranda standing there, her barrier fading. “No deal,” she snarled.

Shepard looked down at the processing floor for a moment, then back to Miranda. “You going to be okay?”

“Yes,” Miranda said softly. “Thank you.” She rushed to her sister, gathering her up in a hug as Kaidan knelt down next to Sam’s unconscious form on the floor. The back of Sam’s shirt had been sliced on either side of his spine.

“That’s not Sam,” Castiel cautioned, quickly drawing his SMGs and training them on the man on the floor. “Kaidan, step away from--”

Sam groaned as he slowly rolled over and sat up. “Cas, it’s me.” He rubbed the back of his head and winced. “It’s Sam. I’m driving.” The hunter winced and slowly stood. “Put the guns away,” he said. He steadied himself and put his hands up. “Cas, I--” The shadow of a birthmark flickered on Sam’s forehead for an instant, and static crackled over the biotic angel as his barrier blossomed around him.

“Azrael.” Castiel spat the name through gritted teeth before holstering his SMGs and drawing his blade. He rushed Sam, and the two of them tumbled through the holopanel display. Castiel’s eyes blazed blue-black with rage as he pinned Sam to the floor. “I should kill you, right now!” Castiel held his blade to the hunter’s throat. “What did you do to Sam? What lies did you tell him, to get him to say yes?” He pressed the edge of the blade to his friend’s throat. “Answer me!” Castiel bellowed.

Shepard and Kaidan snapped on their own barriers and grabbed Castiel, yanking the enraged angel off of Sam. “Back off, Cas!” Shepard’s scar flared as he barked at his Irregular. “You stand down right now mister, or I swear I will put the inhibitors on you and throw your ass right back in the fucking brig for the rest of this war!” Castiel struggled, but Shepard and Kaidan held him firmly. “Stand. Down. _Now._ ” The Commander jerked his head backward, and Kaidan released his hold to go help Sam up from the floor. Castiel and Shepard stared at each other for several long moments before the biotic angel finally snapped off his aura.

“Stannis, you don’t know--” Castiel took a step back when Shepard let him go. “That’s not Sam. Listen to me,” he pleaded.” _That is not Sam talking._ ”

“Actually Castiel, it was.” Shepard looked back to see Sam standing there with the Mark of Death on his forehead. The hunter’s eyes glowed briefly, and a faint shadow of spreading wings appeared on the wall behind him. “My name is Azrael.” He sighed. His knees started to tremble slightly. “I’m an Angel of the Lord, but I’m not exactly what my baby brother believes I am.” Azrael looked over at the Lawson sisters. “You sure you’re going to be okay, Miranda?”

Miranda Lawson nodded. “We’ll be fine. Worry about Sam and yourself.”

Azrael smiled slightly. “If you hadn’t helped me get those implants out, Sam and I would be dead--Thank you again.” Miranda let go of her sister and approached the angel. She scanned him with her Omni-Tool. “I look about as good as I feel, I take it?” Miranda nodded. Sam/Azrael’s body was ashen and trembling.

“My god,” she said. “Your electrolytes are dangerously low,” she said. “Your blood sugar, too. And you’re...anemic?” Azrael nodded, and started to sway. Miranda reached out to steady him, and the angel took Miranda’s hand in both of his. He gave Miranda a gentle squeeze and a weak smile, then turned his gaze to Kaidan.

“Come with you?”

Kaidan nodded. “Shuttle,” he responded. “I’ll escort you.” Azrael nodded, and Kaidan gently took him by one arm. “And you,” he said to Castiel in the voice of a seasoned drill instructor, “are going to help me get him onto the shuttle. Now.”

“ _Nizarim,_ ” Azrael said as he looked back over his shoulder to Shepard, “’s...good to finally see you.” The angel’s voice was thick with fatigue, and he sleepily nodded to Kaidan. “We need to talk, Castiel--but I really, really need sleep first. Probably something to eat.”

Miranda watched the pair leave, and turned to Shepard. “Azrael said that he’d been shielding Sam from the implants that Cerberus put in him,” she said as she wiped at the shallow slash on her right cheek. “I helped him get the implants out--I can’t imagine the effort that it took with the Reapers and the indoctrination technology my father was studying here...and despite all that, he still helped me fight off Dean Winchester.” The ex-Cerberus scientist glanced at her sister and furrowed her brow. “That hunter would have happily killed me _and_ Ori if Azrael hadn’t been here backing me up, Stannis--and he wouldn’t have had a lot of trouble either, given all the implants that Cerberus must have put in him.”

“Shit.” Shepard grimaced and rubbed his forehead. “What about your father’s research data?”

“Kai Leng managed to get it and take off while Azrael and I were fighting Dean. Good luck finding him.” The biotic pursed her lips and took out a device, which she handed to Shepard. “I did manage to plant a tracker on Dean, though--with any luck, he should lead you right to The Illusive Man.”

“You were prepared,” Shepard quipped.

“I told you, Stannis--I always have a plan.”

  


**SSV** **_Normandy_ **

**Brig**

**Two days later**

  


“Azrael.”

The angel looked over from where he was laying on the bunk in his cell. He sat up and smiled when he saw Castiel standing there staring at him with arms crossed. “Hey.”

Castiel glared at his brother from the darkened hallway outside Azrael’s cell. “Now that you’re awake, I want to know what you’re doing here--and why you’re in Sam Winchester’s body.”

Azrael shrugged. “I’m the one who brought you here. When Sam was dying as a result of the Trials, I came to Dean and manipulated him into getting Sam to say yes to me. Was it underhanded? Yes. Should I have maybe said something first? Yes. But time was getting short, war was about to come to this world, and I saw no alternative than to call an audible--which would be you and the Winchesters.”

“And you,” said Shepard as he walked down the hallway to stand next to Castiel. “Why didn’t you say anything when you first got here?”

Azrael shrugged again from his seat on the bunk. “Would you have believed me?”

“How did I not see you when you first took Sam as a vessel?” Castiel demanded.

The imprisoned angel stood and straightened his Alliance fatigues, walked over to the force field in front of his cell, and pointed to the mark on his forehead. “Did you tell our _nizarim_ why this is called the Mark of Death?”

Shepard looked over at Castiel. “He said that you’re an angelic assassin.”

Castiel sighed. “Azrael,” he explained, “was Michael’s _personal_ hitman. Angels who were disobedient or who expressed doubt...Azrael was sent to dispose of them.”

“Except that I didn’t,” the angel replied. “I helped them escape.” He pointed at the floor. “To this world. This mark let me hide them from pretty much everyone--Michael included--while I sneaked them here through a back door that only angels with this Mark can access. That door is now sealed thanks to Metatron’s little stunt, which is why I'm half here and half in Bobby Singer's basement.”

Shepard and Castiel raised an eyebrow. “How--” they began in unison.

“This mark on my forehead, Castiel--it’s not what you’ve been led to believe. God placed it on the last fifteen angels to speak to him before he went on his walkabout. The other fourteen are here, in this world. They’ve been here for a very long time, and every angel that I helped along our little Underground Railroad--angels fleeing before the Apocalypse, angels fleeing the Apocalypse, angels fleeing in all the bad craziness after the Apocalypse--they all wound up here, in the care of my fourteen brothers and sisters, preparing for _this_ war, in _this_ cycle. The only angels I ever killed were the ones that sided with Lucifer.”

Shepard crossed his arms. “Uh huh.”

“ _Nizarim_ ,” Azrael snarked, “I love you and have been waiting years to finally meet you, but I will remind you that I’ve been nothing less than cooperative, and that I came directly to this cell in the brig as soon as the shuttle docked, specifically as a show of cooperation. Our people _want_ you to win this war, Stannis. They’re helping behind the scenes, hidden among you as mercenaries, soldiers, doctors, engineers, and even civilians making a stand with Resistance groups all over the galaxy.” Azrael sighed deeply. “The Winchester brothers, my brother--even me, to an extent--we’re the direct aid.”

Castiel crossed his arms and looked at his brother, his expression darkening. “Then why don’t I remember how we got here? Did you erase my mem--”

Azrael got a horrified expression on his face. “Fuck no!” the angel shot back. “I find it to be reprehensible, I despise Michael and Raphael for ordering it done, and I never, ever did it to you or anyone else. All I did was block off your memories of how you got here. If you decide to drop this force field and let me out,” he explained, “I can start the process of unblocking them. But you’ll have to ask your comrade Dr. T’soni to complete the process. They’re in a vault with two locks, as it were.” He shrugged apologetically. “I wanted to make sure that if those shitheads in Cerberus got their mitts on you, they wouldn’t be able to dig around in your head.” The angel sighed. “Look--I can’t tell you guys more than that. And I can’t--won’t--give up the names of the angels that are here, because it’ll be a distraction to you and to them. Please. I may not be able to provide much in the way of aid, but whatever aid I _can_ provide is yours.”

Shepard pressed his lips together for a moment and cast his eyes down at the floor, then toggled the lock on Azrael’s cell. “Fine,” he said. “I can’t turn down help when it’s offered. Welcome aboard the _Normandy_ , Azrael.”

"Thanks. Here." Azrael reached up and touched Castiel’s forehead with the first two fingers of his right hand. His eyes glowed for a second, then faded along with the Mark of Death. “It’s me.” Sam Winchester shrugged. “Azrael wants to rest some more, so she started the unlock on Cas’ head before going dormant. She said it’s only right that if we’re going after Dean, I be the one to drive--so to speak.”

“She?” Shepard asked.

Sam nodded. “Azrael’s true vessel is female," he replied. "So she feels more comfortable using female pronouns. And I’ve only got half an Azrael in me--the other half is on the floor of Bobby’s panic room, using her true vessel as an anchor so Dean and Cas and I can get home when this is over.”

Shepard blinked and shook his head. “One of these days, I'm sure I'll get the full story.” He pointed back over his shoulder. “Sam, report to the Medbay ASAP so Dr. Chakwas can give you a complete exam and a psych eval.” Sam nodded and headed out of the brig and up the stairs. Shepard watched the hunter retreat, and sighed.

“Stannis.” Castiel put a hand on Shepard’s shoulder. The Commander looked back at the angel and quirked an eyebrow.

“Hmm?”

“Azrael is an assassin and a master of subterfuge. Her name struck fear into the heart of every angel--I want to trust her, but we should still be careful.”

Shepard grunted. “Do you think I made a mistake letting Sam out of the brig?”

After a long pause, Castiel responded. “No.”

Shepard nodded. “Then go to the armory and make sure your gear is ready, because we’re going to hit the relay in two hours. It’s time to cut the head off of Cerberus.”

  
“Yes sir.”


	29. Save Me From Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cerberus finally gets taken out. Castiel and Dean are reunited, with tragic consequences.

**SSV** **_Normandy_ **

**Cockpit**

 

“Stealth systems engaged, Commander.” Joker looked back over his shoulder. “The Fifth Fleet has already engaged Cerberus forces.”

 

EDI stood up from her seat. “Stannis,” she declared, “I should go with you. Of all of us on this ship, I have the best knowledge of Cerberus systems and can help you bypass security.”

 

Joker spun his seat around. “What?! Are you kidding me? They could have a virus, or a killswitch, or…”

 

EDI smiled at the  _ Normandy _ ’s pilot. “I’ll be fine, Jeff.”

 

Shepard gave EDI a cursory nod. “Go to the armoury and meet the rest of the team.” He turned to Joker. “I’ll bring her back safe and sound, Joker.” The  _ Normandy _ ’s pilot sighed and nodded, turning back to his controls.

 

“Shepard,” Sam radioed, “I need to talk to you. It’s kind of important. I’m in Sam’s quarters.”

 

Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dammit.” With a half-sigh, he walked out of the cockpit and headed through CIC toward the elevator.

  
  


**Engineering Subdeck**

 

Shepard came down the stairs from Engineering and rounded the corner to the living space he’d assigned to his Irregulars. Sam stood with his back to Shepard. “OK,” the Commander said, “since you mentioned you were in Sam’s quarters, I’m guessing that Sam’s not in control at the moment.”

 

“No.” The hunter turned, and Shepard saw the tracks of tears on his face and Azrael’s mark shining on his forehead. “ _ Nizarim _ ,” the angel said, “I can’t go. I…”

 

“You want to tell me what’s wrong?” Shepard tipped his head to the side. “Can you let Sam drive?”

 

Azrael shook his head. “No,” the angel said. His voice was almost a whisper. “I have to save what grace I have--even shielding this greybox taxes me. I’m... _ Nizarim _ , I’m scared. I don’t want to see Sam indoctrinated.  _ I _ don’t want to be indoctrinated. I’ve seen what it does to people, heard about what it can do to…” Azrael’s breathing sped up, and his face turned pale. “We can’t go...help...help…” The angel started babbling in Enochian and started visibly trembling.

 

Shepard stepped forward and gripped Azrael firmly. “Azrael,” he said, his voice barely above the hum of the drive core, “Calm down. You’re having a panic attack--I’ve seen it before.” He looked up into his angelic guest’s eyes.

 

“Elysium,” Azrael replied in a hoarse whisper.

 

“Yes,” Shepard said. “On Elysium, a rookie Marine from Mindoir who was scared shitless of becoming a slave to Batarian pirates because he saw them wipe out his family when he was a kid.”

 

Shepard guided Azrael to Sam’s bunk, and the angel sat down slowly while taking a slow deep breath. “Here,” Shepard said. “Take a moment to gather yourself--and I am  _ not _ going to force you to come with me, especially if you’re that scared that the two of you will become indoctrinated. Azrael,” he repeated the angel’s name to hold his attention, “you’re staying on the ship, okay? Tell Sam we’ll bring Dean home.”

 

**Sam**

 

The setpieces that Azrael had constructed in Sam’s mind were gone now. Sam sat on the floor of a bare grey room, doing his best to comfort a terrified angel. “Azrael,” Sam said as he held her close. “It’ll be okay. Stannis will understand if we can’t go.” 

 

“Azrael,” Stannis’ voice echoed in the room, “you’re staying on the ship, okay? Tell Sam we’ll bring Dean home.”

 

“Go,” Azrael managed to choke out between sobs. “Go talk to him, Sam. Please. Tell my  _ nizarim _ that I’m sorry for everything.”

 

“Az,” Sam whispered into the angel’s thick wavy hair, “you need to be the one to talk to him.” He gave her a kiss on the top of her head. “Running is the worst thing you can do right now. It’ll be okay.”

 

**Engineering Subdeck**

 

“Sam…” Azrael sniffled. He took a couple more deep breaths and closed his eyes. “Sam is okay with staying here. I’m sorry,  _ nizarim _ . I’m sorry for everything.”

 

Shepard sighed and sat next to the angel. He rubbed his back soothingly and said, “Don’t apologize for being scared, Azrael. Go see Dr. Chakwas and let her check you out, get something to eat for Sam’s benefit, and spend time with the rest of the crew.” Shepard’s Omni-Tool pinged, and he slowly stood. “I have to go--if you need to, we can talk more when I come back.”

 

Azrael nodded, and Shepard went back up the stairs, leaving the angel along with his--and Sam’s--thoughts.

  
  


**Cerberus Headquarters**

**Hangar Bay 2D**

 

_ Elder Son en route, ETA 30 seconds. Clear out. _

 

_ Izzy _

 

A man in a grey hooded catsuit read the message and let out a piercing whistle that cut through the sound of gunfire in the launch bay. One by one, the strike team members vanished, leaving a squad of Cerberus troopers standing there dumbfounded when a shuttle crashed into them. The shuttle smeared a couple of unlucky troopers on the deck of the launch bay, and scattered the remainder. The doors opened, and Shepard and his team scrambled out and headed for cover. “Cortez,” Shepard radioed, “Status?”

 

“I’m okay,” Cortez replied quickly, “Just need to make a few repairs--give Cerberus hell for me!”

 

Shepard looked back at Castiel and nodded. The angel soared toward the ceiling of the launch bay with static crackling from his wings. Several Centurions tossed smoke bombs to cover their approach. Castiel swooped down to dissipate the smoke with his wake before looping up and around to take on an Atlas mech. The air shimmered around the angel as he faded from view.

 

A voice sounded over the PA system as klaxons started blaring. “Warning: Achilles Protocol initiated in Hangar Bay.”

 

“Cerberus means to vent the hangar bay,” EDI radioed. “If I can access a console, I can override it.”  In response, Shepard charged out from cover and into the middle of a squad of Cerberus troops. The charge knocked two of the heavy troopers back.  Castiel shimmered into view, running up to smite the troopers as the Atlas exploded behind him. Kaidan ran to join Shepard, laying down covering fire as another squad came into the hangar.

 

“Go, EDI! I’ve got your back!” The biotic took cover to engage the new arrivals. Castiel came in next to him, covering EDI and Shepard’s ascent up the ladder to a control console. “Cas, sniper!” The angel looked to where Kaidan had indicated to see the flash of a Nemesis sniper’s laser sight, then vanished. The Nemesis tumbled over the ledge thirty seconds later, trailing wisps of smoke from under her hood.

 

EDI’s voice came over the comms. “Achilles Protocol…disabled.” She stepped over to the fighter control console next to her. “If one of you can get to that launch console, I have an idea.” The AI pressed a couple of buttons to bring up a fighter. She turned it to face the back of the hangar, and a slight smile crossed her face and she winked at Castiel.

 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” The angel smirked, and EDI wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

 

“On it!” Kaidan ran across the hangar bay and got to the console. “I’m there--release the safeties, EDI.”

 

“Done.”

 

Kaidan keyed a command, and the fighter launched itself through the wall at the back of the hangar to leave a trail of destruction that extended deep into the station. 

 

“Good work everyone,” Shepard said when the group reassembled. “EDI, where do you think Cerberus would be keeping the Catalyst?”

 

“A central lab farther in the station would be the most likely location,” EDI responded. She started the process of hacking the lock on the door in front of her. “Following the trail of destruction left by the fighter would be the best way to reach it.”

 

Shepard nodded. “Thanks, EDI. Without you here…”

 

“Cerberus would have vented the hangar,” the AI responded matter-of-factly. The lock on the door turned green, and the door opened. “Castiel,” EDI asked, “What will you do if we encounter Dean here?”

 

The angel’s expression darkened, and he furrowed his brow for a moment. “If I can save him, I will.”

 

“And if not?”

 

Castiel looked down at the floor for a moment, let out a deep sigh, then looked back at EDI. “I’ll do what I have to do.” He walked forward to the giant hole in the wall left by the fighter. “We should get moving,” he said quietly.

  
  
  


**SSV** **_Orizaba_ **

**Command Deck**

  
  


“Lieutenant,” Admiral Hackett said quietly, “Can you give me a casualty report on those strike teams?”

 

Israfel nodded. The rest of the  _ Orizaba _ ’s crew saw a human in Alliance dress blues. Hackett, however, saw the true form of his old angelic companion. “Strike teams report no casualties,” she said. “They extracted safely, and are returning to base.” Hackett nodded and smiled a bit.

 

“Some good news, at least.” He keyed his comms unit. “Commander,” he said, “What’s your status?”

 

“We’re heading toward the center of the station,” Shepard replied. “Status green so far--no Winchester sighting yet.”

 

“We’re holding back as much as we can,” Hackett responded.

 

“Don’t go easy on them sir,” Shepard shot back.

 

Hackett sighed and looked down the angel who was staring intently at the ladar screens. Her fists were clenched tightly. “Shepard,” Hackett radioed, “This isn’t Elysium, son--we don’t need a hero here.”

 

“We’ll be fine. We’re deep in the station and heading further in toward a central lab.”

 

“I can get everyone back to the  _ Normandy _ when we’re done,” Castiel cut in. “Don’t worry about us.”

 

Hackett sighed and keyed his comms. “Very well. All ships, you are free to fire.” 

  
  


**SSV** **_Normandy_ **

**Mess**

 

“So...Are you Sam, or are you Azrael?” Tali reached up to touch her friend’s forehead. “Does that mark hurt?”

 

“I’m Azrael, Tali.” Azrael shrugged. “And did it hurt when your father kissed you on the forehead?” He shovelled a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth and winked.

 

The Quarian blinked. “I don’t know who’s more strange--you or Sam.” She leaned over the table and gently poked at him. “Is Sam in there?”

 

Azrael swallowed and nodded, and the mark faded from his forehead. “Yes I am. You can stop poking me, Tali.” Sam looked down at the bowl of oatmeal. “He was eating oatmeal?” He put another spoonful of the cereal in his mouth, and screwed up his face at the taste before immediately spitting it back into the bowl. “Oh my god, Azrael, have a little oatmeal with your salt?” Sam ran to the sink and spit into it, then grabbed a glass and washed his mouth out with some water. He opened the mess refrigerator and took out a small bottle of orange juice, then walked back to the table.

 

“Everything OK, Saaa...m?” Garrus came down the steps from the main battery and did the Turian equivalent of raising an eyebrow, to which Sam nodded in acknowledgement.

 

“Apparently humans don’t like salt on their oatmeal,” Tali quipped. “He made a rather unpleasant face.”

 

Sam sat down at the table and popped the top on the juice bottle, then drained it in two swallows. “I need to have a talk with Azrael about their eating habits. That was pretty gross!” He looked at Tali. “Jimmy Novak--Castiel’s vessel? He was half-starved when Cas got yanked out of him once, because Cas never ate or drank anything. And now, I think I understand why. Blegh!” He pushed the bowl to the side.

 

“So, I heard about an angelic panic attack earlier,” Garrus commented. “Everything okay with your, uh, guest?” Sam nodded, and got up from the table.

 

“I think they’ll be okay,” the hunter said. He picked up the bowl of salt-laden oatmeal and took it to the sink, where he washed the salty mush down the drain. “They’re kinda worn out, energy-wise. And, since I’ve still got a Cerberus greybox in my head, Azrael is shielding it until Dr. Chakwas can get it out.” He opened the refrigerator and got out a packaged sandwich before coming back to the table. He checked the label on the sandwich, then opened it. “Which means that I get to stay here while Cas and Shepard go look for Dean on that station, just in case they have any spare Reaper tech laying around that may overtax Azrael’s ability to shield me from indoctrination.” Sam took a bite of the sandwich. “Hmm.”

 

“Better?” Tali asked.

 

“Mmm hmm!” Sam replied with a nod. He showed the label to his Quarian crewmate and swallowed. “I never thought I would be so happy to have a plain tuna salad sandwich,” he quipped.

  
  


**Cerberus Base**

 

Shepard stared blankly at the terminal in front of him, processing what he had just heard about the Lazarus Project. “Do you think I’m really me?” he asked nobody in particular. He looked back over his shoulder at Kaidan. “Or am I just a complex VI that just thinks it’s Stannis Shepard?”

 

“You’re real enough for me,” Kaidan told his lover. He leaned forward and planted a small kiss just behind Shepard’s left ear. “And that’s all I care about.”

 

“If Azrael was right,” Castiel responded from a darkened corner of the lab, “and the angels in this world have been helping humanity and other races prepare for this war--then perhaps they put your soul back in your body once it was rebuilt.”

 

Shepard turned. “Then why don’t I remember Heaven?” he said. “Did the angels wipe my memory?”

 

“Azrael will be able to answer that--but I must remind you that if we don’t get what we came for, then no amount of angelic assistance will do anything except prolong the inevitable, rendering all such questions are effectively meaningless.” Castiel turned to face the group. “I’ve got research data and some schematics downloaded from this console,” the angel said.

 

“This door is open now,” EDI announced. “We should hurry.” The team walked out of the lab and turned left, then went down a level to a maintenance sub-floor. “Cerberus engineers are erecting turrets to block our path,” the Normandy’s AI cautioned. “Be prepared to find cover.”

 

“Got it.” Shepard ducked behind some piping, shotgun at the ready. Castiel reached around the corner and materialized a micro-singularity in the midst of a knot of Cerberus troops. The sphere of dark energy lifted the Cerberus soldiers into the air and swirled them around as small lightning bolts shot out at them. Kaidan fired off a biotic projectile that detonated the singularity, destroying the nearby turrets and flinging the troopers into the walls, ceiling, and floor. Castiel rushed out and smote two surviving troopers, then dove behind a defunct generator.

 

“Clear to the ladder!” the angel radioed before scrambling up to the next level. “And it looks like we’re in the home stretch,” he added.

  
  


**SSV** **_Orizaba_ **

 

“Admiral,” The  _ Orizaba _ ’s comms officer declared, “We just got a message from Commander Shepard--he said that they’ve found Dean Winchester.”

 

Hackett raised an eyebrow. “What’s his status?”

 

The comms officer swallowed hard. “Indoctrinated and extremely hostile.”

  
  


**Cerberus HQ**

**Central Core**

 

“Come on Cas!” The sound of Dean’s mocking voice echoed through the cavernous heart of the station. “Let’s finish this!” A charged round sliced through one of Castiel’s wings and sent him into a tumble. The angel concentrated for a moment and *popped* out of sight, reappearing atop the metallic skull of the Collectors’ proto-Reaper. The synthetic skeleton hung in the middle of the station, surrounded by scaffolding and catwalks. Cabling led out from the “heart” of the machine to power the station.

 

“Cas, we’re not leaving you behind.”  Kaidan’s voice crackled in the angel’s ear.

 

“Kaidan,” Castiel responded. “Go get the Catalyst--I’ll cover you.” The angel stood and spread his wings before taking off in a glide toward one of the upper scaffolding levels. He landed behind the retreating strike team as Dean Winchester advanced on them wearing black armour that made him look like vaguely Samurai-like. “Hello, Dean.”

 

Dean grinned and drew an angel blade. “Always made sure to keep a spare on me after you got your biotic mojo,” he drawled. “In case you got out of hand. You forgot your mission, Cas--you know, protecting  _ humanity _ ?  So whaddaya say you put away the wings and we settle this once and for all? Mano a mano?” The hunter spun the knife in one hand and darted forward, slashing at Castiel as the angel jumped backward and took out his own blade.

 

“I won’t fight you, Dean!” Castiel parried a swipe from his friend, and pushed Dean back with a focused biotic burst. Dean retaliated with a burst from the palm of one of his gauntlets that launched a spray of tiny darts at the angel. Several of the darts embedded themselves in Castiel’s skin, dropping his barrier immediately. Castiel responded by activating his tactical cloak, then looked at Dean with surprise when the cloak failed.

 

“You like that?” Dean grinned ferally. “ Fun little toy, isn’t it?” He slashed at Castiel again. “It’s great for plucking the wings off an angel. Makes the fight a little more fair.” The hunter swirled his right hand in the air. “No strafing runs, no flying out of range...” Dean lashed out and gashed Castiel across the left cheek. The cut glowed blue-black and blood ran down the angel’s cheek. “Come on, Cas--let’s dance!” He stabbed at Castiel, who leaped back, parrying the blow with his blade.

 

“Dammit!” Castiel’s riposte clipped Dean’s shoulder. The hunter rolled back on the catwalk, and scrambled up the ladder. Castiel scrambled down over the side and dropped to one of the proto-Reaper’s ribs. He dug into his face and neck, plucking out the Cerberus darts. He caught a flash of light out of the corner of one eye, and rolled to the side just in time to dodge another burst of darts. A faint hum started to encroach on Castiel’s hearing, creeping into the back of his mind.

 

_ Castiel, _ the angel heard Jimmy saying to him.  _ You need to get away from this thing ASAP. It’s the annoying encyclopedia salesman who won’t leave the front doorstep until you give up and let him come in. _

 

Castiel focused his will, and felt the hum being drowned out by the static of his barrier. He tensed and leaped, soaring up from the proto-Reaper with wings spread wide. The angel zoomed past the catwalks, then felt Dean leap on his back. Castiel spun around in the air and grabbed his friend. The two of them plummeted back toward one of the catwalks. The pair landed and rolled, and Dean’s hand slammed into a railing, causing him to drop his angel blade. Castiel rolled on top of the hunter, and punched him hard in the face, once and then again. “Dammit, Dean! You’re indoctrinated! Fight it--I need you!” Dean thrashed, throwing Castiel into the railing.

 

“I’m not indoctrinated,” Dean snarled. “I’m... _ enlightened. _ I know exactly what I’m doing.” He punched Castiel twice in the face, then picked him up and bodyslammed him into the catwalk. “I’m fighting for  _ people _ .” Castiel reached up toward Dean’s face, but the hunter grabbed his hand. “Don’t you see, Cas?  _ We’re _ God’s greatest creation!  _ We _ stopped the Apocalypse!  _ We saved the world. _ Not Turians, not Asari, not even Angels--we  _ humans _ cleaned up  _ your _ mess.” Dean punched Castiel in the face with his free hand. “Humanity on top, the way it was always meant to be!”

 

Castiel dropped the blade in his free hand, and grabbed Dean by the front of his battlesuit. “Not here!” Castiel retorted. “We’re in this together,” he shouted, rolling over and taking his friend with him. He hauled Dean up and slammed him against a console. “All of us!” The angel punched Dean three times. “All. Of. Us.” A tear ran down Castiel’s face as he looked at Dean, who stared at him blankly, face swollen and bruised. “Dean, I…” Castiel took a deep breath and brought his hand down on the hunter’s head. Bright light streamed from Dean’s eyes and mouth, over his skin, tracing lines of circuitry and implants, and his shrieks of agony echoed through the cavernous heart of Cerberus headquarters before Castiel let the body fall to the deck, smoke trailing from his empty eye sockets.

 

“...I love you.” Castiel’s voice broke when he said it. He knelt, gathered the smoking body in his arms, and vanished in a whiff of ozone.

  
  


**Illusive Man’s Office**

 

Shepard kicked at the body of Kai Leng. “Motherfucker.” He walked over to the chair and keyboard, and sat down to begin transferring the data from the Illusive Man’s databanks to analysts on the  _ Orizaba _ . “Cas,” he radioed, “status?”

 

Silence.

 

“Cas? Castiel, do you read?”

 

“Stannis…” Shepard looked up to see a heartbroken expression on EDI’s face. “Castiel is back on the Normandy. Cortez is coming to pick us up at a nearby airlock,” the AI said softly. Shepard sighed deeply and nodded. Before he could respond, he heard the sound of shuffling feet and a hoarse wheeze from behind him. In one motion, he leapt from his seat, turning and extending an Omni-Blade. Sweeping his left hand out to shatter Kai Leng’s raised sword, Shepard buried his own searing blade deep into the assassin’s side.

  
“That was for Thane, you sonofabitch!” Shepard hissed into Leng’s ear. He twisted, and shoved Leng back to bleed out on the floor, blade broken off in the assassin’s torso. “We got what we came for,” Shepard announced. “It’s time to go home.”


	30. Nobody's Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finds out that somebody he had been told was dead wasn't really dead. Death makes a housecall...and has a word with Shepard.

 

**Sam**

 

“What do you mean, you can’t find his soul and put it back in his body?” Sam glared across the mess table at Azrael. “You’re an  _ angel _ .”

  
“We’re not in a place where angels can do that,” the angel replied. “This world doesn’t work the same way a--”  Her words died in her throat when Sam started to rise from the table. The hunter looked her in the eye and sighed, then closed his eyes for a silent ten-count. He sat back down and clasped his hands in front of him on the metal table, looking down at the brushed steel surface. After an uncomfortable silence, Azrael reached across the table to take his hands in hers.  “However.”

  
“However...?”  Sam looked up.

  
Azrael nodded. “I know how Stannis’ soul was put back in his body after Cerberus put it back together.  I may be able to call in the same kind of favour.” The angel sighed deeply and gave Sam’s hands a squeeze. “But I’ll need to drive again, just so I can send a message.”

  
Sam looked down at the table, then looked over to MedBay where a body lay on one of the beds, covered with a sheet. “Do it,” he whispered. Azrael stood and leaned across the table to give Sam a kiss on the forehead.  
  


“Thank you--I’ll be as swift as I can.”

  
  
  


**SSV** **_Orizaba_ **

**Crew Quarters**

 

> _ Izzy, _
> 
> _ Need to request a favour. Can you help? _
> 
> _ Az _

 

Israfel sighed deeply in the darkened crew quarters. She rubbed her forehead for a moment, then typed out a response on her Omni-Tool.   
  


> _ I can guess what you’re about to ask, and you know damned well that he’ll say there’s only one favour to a Consensus. Especially since Dean burned his own personal favour getting Sam out of the Cage.  
>   
>  _

A couple of minutes later, the reply came.   
  


> _ What can we do then? We can’t lose him. _  Thirty seconds after that, another message pinged.  _ And how in Creation are you even able to eat? Apparently salt on oatmeal isn’t a thing?  
>   
>  _

Israfel snorted out a soft chuckle. “Oh Az,” she whispered.  _ Az, _ she typed back,  _ stick with the pre-made meals. And as for the Winchesters...let me get back to you. _ The angel hit SEND, then typed another message.   
  


> _ Has Dean Winchester made an appearance? I’m on 24h alert until we rendezvous with the Crucible, so I can’t leave to check for myself.  
>   
>  _

Three minutes later, Israfel’s Omni-Tool pinged with a reply.   
  


> _ No Winchester here, but we're keeping an eye out for him. Maybe he’s just delayed? --C  
>   
>  _

The archangel sighed again.  _ Shit. OK, _ she replied.  _ Thanks. _ Israfel rolled over to face the bulkhead. “Fuck…” she breathed into her pillow.

  
  
  


**Dean**

 

“Uhh...Hello?” Dean walked into the Zakera Ward food court. It was deserted, except for one person. A gaunt dark-haired man in a black business suit and long coat sat at a table with his back to Dean. A silver-tipped walking stick rested on the table next to him, and an empty fry boat sat off to the side.

  
“You know Dean,” the gaunt man said without looking up, “I would say that I am really getting tired of your shit--but you didn’t bring yourself here, so I’ll just point out that I’m getting tired of meeting you like this.” He indicated the seat across from him. “Sit.” Dean quickly moved to the table and sat down. “Have a varren skewer. I really do like the...what’s it called?”  
  


Dean swallowed hard before nervously saying, “Uhh, Tummy-Tingling Tuchanka Sauce?”   
  


The gaunt man smiled. “Yes, that’s it. Just the right amount of kick. But I didn’t bring you here for the food.” He popped a chunk of sauced varren in his mouth and chewed it slowly before swallowing. “I’m here, because you are  _ not _ supposed to be here.”   
  


Dean blinked. “I...uh, don’t understand. Death. Uh, Your Honour. Sir.” A distant shriek made Dean look up. “What the Hell was that?”   
  


“The same thing that has happened every fifty thousand years since time immemorial.” Death dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “The machines have the Citadel yet again--this time, thanks to Cerberus. They’re going to harvest every race that’s fighting them, and you--well, you’re sitting here with me. Again.” He sat back. “Do you remember the last thing you saw, Dean?”   
  


The hunter looked down at the table for a moment. “Cas. He was...he was crying, right before he smote me.”   
  


“Yes.” Death looked at Dean. “The angel who fell because he loves you had to smite you. And now we’re here, which brings us back...to you. You are not supposed to be  _ here _ .” Death pointed at the tabletop. “In this world. You were brought here out of desperation on behalf of a group of refugees, to help fight a war that isn’t even yours to fight...and you wind up dead.” His tone was equal parts annoyed and amused.   
  


“And Cas?”   
  


“I believe he’s currently praying for a miracle.”

  
  


**SSV** **_Normandy_ **

**AI Core**

 

“Castiel.”   
  


Castiel looked up to see Azrael standing in the doorway, his mark shining on Sam’s forehead and a chair in his hand. “Azrael.”   
  


“You know, you can call me Az.” The archangel sat next to his brother. “I’m sorry, Castiel. I really am. Sam’s not angry at you, for what it’s worth.”   
  


Castiel looked at his brother. “Then why are you in control of him?” he snarked.   
  


“I’m trying to...well, I’m trying to see if there’s any way I can request a favour from somebody.” Azrael sighed deeply. “It’s a long shot, Castiel--but Dad’s not going to intervene. Not on this.” Castiel’s eyes narrowed and he drew his mouth into a thin line, and Azrael responded by putting a firm hand on his shoulder. “Cas--please, listen to me. Stannis was  _ right _ . I was listening in that night you all figured out that it was our people who brought you here. Dad is putting his trust in  _ us _ , his kids--human, angel, Asari, Turian, Krogan, all of us--to get this shit done. You can be angry all you want--but Dad’s made it clear. We can make our own decisions.”   
  


“And a lot of good that’s done,” Castiel snapped. He stood and stalked toward the back of the darkened AI Core. “Look at the mess I made back home!”   
  


Azrael stood and moved his chair out of the way. “That’s because you made your decisions in a vacuum, Cas.” He leaned against the control panel. “My bringing us here? That was a decision that I made after talking to Isr--to our people that are here. I’ve been in contact with them ever since they beat feet to get away from Michael and Raphael. I knew what was coming. I knew that Stannis was going to need help. So I made the best decision I could make at the time. And I stand by it, because I didn’t make it in a vacuum.”   
  


Castiel turned to face his brother. “Israfel.”   
  


Azrael facepalmed. “Ah shit.”   
  


“We were all told that she was dead by your hand,” Castiel snapped. “But she’s actually here, isn’t she? You’ve been in contact with her this whole time, haven’t you?”   
  


Azrael let out a heavy sigh. “No--I checked in after we got to Vancouver, and then I was silent until Cerberus captured the Winchesters.” The angel walked toward his brother,  "Cas, don't--" The words died in his throat as he found himself trapped in a biotic stasis.   
  


“Israfel!” Castiel called out. “I know you’re listening--why won’t you help us?!”   
  


“Because I’ve been busy helping the allies run this war, Cas.” The gentle voice made Castiel turn and look behind him. A barefoot woman wearing Alliance fatigue pants and a t-shirt stood at the back of the AI Core, with a mark like Azrael’s on her forehead. Her arms were crossed, her expression placid. The bluish lights of the AI Core made her olive complexion pallid. “I have exactly two minutes before somebody figures out that I’m not really in the head outside the crew quarters on the  _ Orizaba _ . So let Az go, and get it out of your system.”   
  


The stasis field vanished, and Azrael stumbled forward. “You,” Castiel snarled at his sister, tears running down his face. “Why didn’t you say something to us?  To me?! Dean’s dead because of you!”    
  


“Castiel,” Israfel replied calmly, “I wasn’t the one who indoctrinated Dean Winchester, nor was I the one who smote him.”   
  


Castiel rushed forward and grabbed his sister by the shirt-front. “Why, Israfel? Why couldn’t you just say something to  _ me _ ? Why couldn’t you tell us you were here?” He started to sob. “Dean…Dean….”    
  


Israfel reached up to wipe a tear from Castiel’s face, and hugged him as he collapsed against her. “Cas…” Israfel whispered. “Baby brother, I am so, so sorry.” The pair sank to the floor, and Israfel rocked her brother back and forth as he cried in her arms. “I understand what it means to lose someone that you love, Castiel. I understand more than you know.” Azrael looked up at EDI’s camera and quietly indicated silence. The light on the camera blinked out in response, and a text message came up on Sam’s Omni-Tool:   
  


__ Stannis will ask questions. He deserves the whole truth.  
  


Azrael responded with a simple acknowledgement, then joined his siblings on the floor.    
  


“Castiel, I don’t have time to explain everything.” Israfel pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at Castiel’s face as her Omni-Tool chimed a soft alarm. “I have to go--the Fleet is about to rendezvous with the Crucible, and I'm needed at my post.” She kissed her brother on the forehead. “I...I’ll do what I can for Dean. I can at least promise that much. And I promise that you will all hear the whole and unvarnished truth-- _ when _ we have time.” She stood and helped Castiel up, then looked at Azrael, who also stood. “Az, please watch him. He needs at least one of us.” Israfel vanished with a rush of wings, leaving her brothers alone in the AI Core as a knock sounded on the door and Shepard’s voice came over the tannoy.   
  


“Hey guys, it’s Stannis. You two okay in there?”

  
  


**Dean**

 

“So…” Dean’s voice trailed off a bit. “What happens now?”   
  


“What happens now is that I finish my skewers,” Death said in a tone that implied  _ what do you think is going to happen, you blundering sack of snark and protoplasm? _ He took the last cube of varren and leisurely swirled it in the sauce still in the fry boat, then popped it into his mouth. “Hmm.” He chewed and swallowed, then sat back. “I’m surprised--by this time I would have gotten one of the Consensus coming to me, asking for a favour.”   
  


Dean blinked a couple of times and raised an eyebrow. “The Consensus? What, you talk to the Geth?”   
  


“The angels that live here--they refer to themselves as a Consensus. No top-down leadership--or at least, no Michael to give orders. I don’t know the details, and it’s not that important to me.” Death shrugged a bit. “In any case, I guess they don’t want to press their luck.”   
  


Dean gave Death a quizzical look. “Press their luck how?”   
  


The gaunt man replied, “One of them--their leader, even though she doesn't want to admit it--begged me for help a couple of years ago.”   
  


The hunter looked around the deserted food court. Screams and shrieks echoed through the deserted halls and wards of the Citadel. “Not even Keepers? This is a little disconcerting…”   
  


“Focus, Dean.” Death fixed the hunter with an annoyed look. “The Lazarus Project. Stannis Shepard’s body needed his soul, and I was asked to help.”   
  


Dean shrank in his seat, looking a bit like a spanked puppy. “Sorry. Umm, help with what, exactly?”   
  


Death stood and collected his cane. “The same thing I am about to do with you. Only this time I’m doing it  _ pro bono _ and probably against my better judgment, because--as I said-- _ you _ aren’t supposed to be here.” The gaunt man held out his hand. “Take my hand, Dean.” Dean hesitated for a moment, then took Death’s hand. The second he did so, the Citadel vanished and darkness claimed him.

  
  


**SSV** **_Normandy_ **

**MedBay**

 

Azrael and Castiel sat silently next to the bed, staring at Dean’s body. The shimmer of a stasis field covered the corpse, making it glow faintly under the dimmed lights. “I...thank you, Azrael.” Castiel looked over at his brother. “I shouldn’t have been angry with you.”   
  


“No,” Azrael said in a hoarse half-whisper. “You were right to be angry. Still are.” He sniffled a bit. “I’m...I know how much Dean means to you, Castiel. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save him, like I was able to save Sam.” The angel cradled his head in his hands and looked down toward the floor. A hand on his back made him look up and back over his shoulder to see Liara. “Hi, Liara. Sam’s...he’s letting me drive right now.”   
  


“Oh.” Liara drew back, eyes widening a bit. “I’m sorry, I can co--”   
  


“Oh, no, It’s okay,” Azrael said, turning in his seat to gently take her hand. “You’re not intruding. Dean and Sam are your friends too.” He gave the asari’s hand a gentle squeeze. "Please, stay."   
  


“Cas,” Shepard asked, pulling up a chair, “you going to be okay?” Castiel shook his head in response, and Shepard repositioned his chair so that he was facing both angels. “I’m sorry--I know how it feels to lose somebody you care about.” Castiel nodded, and Shepard reached out to take his friend’s hand. “You’re not alone in this. We’re all--”   
  


Shepard’s comment was cut short by a sudden commotion in the mess. The MedBay door opened and a tall, gaunt man in a black 20th-Century business suit and a long opera coat walked into the MedBay carrying an ancient black doctor’s bag. His receding dark hair was combed back over his head, his face expressionless. Castiel stood and immediately stepped back, eyes wide.   
  


“You?”

  
Shepard stood and threw up his barrier before taking a defensive position between the man and Dean’s body, and Vega charged around the corner from the elevator with several armed Marines in tow, all levelling assault rifles on the stranger. A red dot appeared on the man’s chest as Garrus aimed his sniper rifle at him from the corridor heading to the forward battery.  
  


Azrael stepped around Castiel and bowed slightly. “Sir.”   
  


“You know this person?” Shepard looked at Azrael.   
  


“ _ Nizarim _ .” Azrael turned to Shepard as Castiel stared at him wide-eyed. “You’re in the presence of a universal constant,” the angel said semi-reverently. “More accurately, he is  _ the _ Universal Constant--Death.” The archangel looked at the gaunt man. “I presume you need us to move out of your way.”   
  


Death arched an eyebrow slightly. “Oh no,” he snarked, “by all means, please feel free to stand there looking utterly foolish.” Shepard, Castiel, and Azrael cleared out the chairs, and Shepard indicated “all clear” to Vega and Garrus.  Death turned his gaze to Shepard. “Your friends and family are very protective of you, Stannis.” He looked at the two angels and half-smirked at the word “family”, then turned his gaze to Doctor Chakwas. “Doctor.”   
  


“What in the world are you doing?” the doctor demanded. “You can’t just…” Her words died in her throat at a look from the intruder.   
  


Death walked forward and set his bag down next to the bed. He opened his bag, and a bright light emanated from it.  He reached into the bag, and pulled out what appeared to be a miniature star with one hand, while pulling back the sheet with his other hand. The stasis field around Dean vanished, and Death set the light on the dead hunter’s chest. The light sat there for a moment, then sank into the body. Dean gasped as he drew in breath. He tried to sit up before flopping back to the table, and privacy screens lowered over the MedBay's windows.   
  


“Excuse me,” Chakwas said sternly. “Whoever you are, whatever you’ve done, Dean is my patient and I must see to him.”    
  


Death bowed slightly and stepped aside to let Chakwas and Liara tend to Dean. He turned to face Shepard. “I am not merely doing this out of the kindness of my heart,” the Grim Reaper said to the Commander.   
  


Shepard raised an eyebrow. “I don’t understand.”   
  


Death narrowed his eyes slightly. “The machines, Stannis. I want them gone--the Geth can stay, your AI friend too. But keep in mind that I only allowed you to come back from the grave because those  _ things _ you’re fighting have made a mockery of the Natural Order for more than long enough. I expect you to take care of the problem.” He turned toward the door and stared at the crowd of crewmembers clustered around the door. The group silently moved to the sides to form a corridor, and Death strode out of the MedBay toward the elevator, long coat swishing around him. The elevator door opened and closed.   
  


“Commander,” EDI paged, “Our guest has departed.”

  
  


**Sam**

 

Azrael put a hand on Sam’s shoulder as they stood in the middle of the Normandy’s mess. “I have to go now Sam,” she said quietly as the lights dimmed. “This is the last time we’ll talk for a while.”   
  


Sam blinked. “I don’t understand,” he said. The mess vanished, and a single emergency light came on, illuminating the hunter and the angel in a pool of light. “What’s going on?”   
  


“You saw when Death put Dean’s soul back in his body, right?”  Sam nodded, and Azrael continued. “I need to repair the damage that Castiel did when he had to smite Dean--but it’s going to take almost all of the grace I have to do it. I won’t have enough to do much more after that.” The angel hugged herself and looked nervously into the darkness for a moment.   
  


“And the greybox?”   
  


“It’s inert. Whatever’s left of me will retreat into it after it’s removed--ordinarily I’d stick with you and just find a quiet corner to rest, but thanks to Metatron, grace doesn’t regenerate in this world at present. That’s why we were exhausted and half-dead after Horizon. After Doctor Chakwas takes that greybox out--you need to hang on to it. Take it back with you after the war is over.” She sighed. “The instructions for what to do with it when you get home are parked in your subconscious until you and Nadira are in close proximity to each other--you’ll know what to do when the time comes.” She reached out and took Sam’s hands in hers. “Thank you for giving me a chance, Sam. I’ve...I’ve got a reputation among my people that’s hard to overcome, but I promise that what you’ve seen from me is 100% Real Me. I’m also sorry about the salty oatmeal. Eating is still kind of a foreign concept to me.”

  
The two of them laughed. “Yeah,” Sam said, “that was...that was pretty gross.” After a few seconds, he hugged Azrael. “Thank you for helping Dean, Azrael” he said when he stepped back. “And for helping me.”  
  


“This is the longest I’ve been in this world,” Azrael replied softly. “Helping heal your brother is the least I can do to show my gratitude for being able to experience some of the good parts instead of just the bad. You, Dean, and Cas go help the galaxy win this war--I’ll see you on the other side.”

  
  


**MedBay**

 

“I have him sedated,” Doctor Chakwas said, looking across the bed at Azrael. “Whatever you intend to do, I suggest you do it quickly.”   
  


Azrael nodded. “When I’m done Dean will be healed of his injuries, and you can get that greybox out of Sam’s head--I’ve isolated it from his brain tissue, so you’ll be able to remove it with a minimum of fuss.” The archangel put his hands over Dean’s torso and concentrated. Brilliant white light covered the elder Winchester brother, travelling through the burn-marks on his body. The burns vanished, and the light coalesced over Dean’s empty eye-sockets before fading to reveal closed eyelids. Azrael’s mark vanished from Sam’s forehead, and the hunter staggered.   
  


Liara rushed forward to catch him. “Sam?” Sam nodded, and Liara helped him to a chair. “Are you okay?” Sam nodded again, and leaned against his friend.   
  


“Azrael is spent, but I’m okay,” he half-whispered. “When can we get this greybox out of my head?”   
  


Doctor Chakwas pointed to a bed in the corner. “Liara, help Sam over to the surgical bed and get him prepped while I attend to Dean.” Liara nodded and ushered Sam to the surgical bed in the corner. Sam eased himself up onto the bed and sat there.   
  


“Everybody, clear out!” Shepard’s order quieted the murmuring of the crew. “I don’t want anyone in Medbay except for Liara, Doctor Chakwas, and the Winchesters. Cas, that means you too.” Shepard ushered Castiel out into the Mess, and the door closed behind them.   
  


“Liara,” Sam whispered, “the greybox. I need to hang onto it after you take it out of my head.”

  
Liara raised an eyebrow. “Why?”  
  


Sam gave Liara’s hands a squeeze. “Azrael brought us here. She needs me to bring her home.”

  
  
  
  



	31. Between the Sun and the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the twilight before the Reckoning, Truths are told. Bonds are forged and re-forged.
> 
> NOTE: There is explicit content in this chapter.

_Shepard…_

  
The whispers drifted through the ashen woods. Different ones, tonight. More recent, more cutting.

_Does this unit have a soul?_

> _What makes you so special?! Why you and not me?!_

_Had to be me...somebody else might have gotten it wrong._

> _...take my hand._

A keening wail in the distance pierced through the ghostly whispers. Cool winds swept away ash. The wail stopped, and a blinding light sprang forth to cast Shepard’s shadow before him. He saw countless bodies scattered across the landscape. Some were raised on dragon’s teeth. Others lay on the ground; some missing body parts. Shepard knelt before the nearest body and turned it over. It was human, a man wearing a Cerberus uniform. His eye sockets were empty, the burn-patterns of a smiting on his face. Shepard sighed, and a voice whispered to him.

_Stannis..._

Shepard turned and stood, shielding his eyes from the light as a humanoid form walked toward him. “Who…?” The form got closer, and Shepard was looking at himself again. “What the…?”

“Hi.” Shepard’s clone stopped in front of him. Unlike their last meeting, the clone’s expression was calm. He wore the same N7 armour that Shepard did, but instead of black it was a spotless white.

“You.”

“Me,” the clone said with a slight smile. He clasped his hands behind his back and slowly walked past Shepard into the wasteland. “Call me Gabriel. Come, walk with me.” He looked back at Shepard. “You have nothing to fear, Stannis. Certainly not now.”

“What are you doing here?” Shepard reached out toward his clone, who stopped and faced him again.

“All these bodies,” Gabriel said quietly. “All this death. I...I needed to see it, Stannis.” He sighed deeply and knelt down to examine the corpse of an Asari child. The child’s pale lavender skin was smudged with ash, which the doppelganger gently wiped away with a gauntleted hand. “You see them every night. You hear whispers, feel the heat of unquenchable flames, and you wake exhausted. Who do you blame for this, Stannis?” Shepard hesitated, and Gabriel looked back up at him. “Do you blame the Reapers? Or yourself?”

“I could have saved them,” Shepard replied, his chest starting to feel heavy with regret. “I should have saved them.” The other Shepard stood and put a hand on Stannis’ shoulder.

“But you couldn’t,” Gabriel said. His voice was soft and comforting. “Even if they believed your warnings to begin with, you know that you couldn’t have saved everyone--even Admiral Anderson said as much when you were fighting to get to the _Normandy_ the day the Reapers landed on Earth. All you can do is try to stop the bleeding before it gets worse.” Stannis looked down at the dead child. The other Shepard removed his gauntlets, and put a hand under Stannis’ chin. “Hey, big brother.” Shepard looked up with tears in his eyes, and his clone smiled a bit. “I also came to tell you that you were right. We _are_ on the same side.”

“Brother?” Shepard blinked, voice breaking slightly and tears rolling down his cheeks. The clone reached up to wipe them away and nodded.

“Yes.” Gabriel turned and stretched out his hand toward the horizon, and the first rays of dawn stretched over the landscape. The sunrise washed away the burned-out forest and bodies of the dead, replacing them with green fields and snow-capped mountains in the distance. “I’ve learned a few things since that day on the Normandy.” He looked at his brother. “I came to realize that I was fighting the wrong battle all along. Stannis, I…”

The younger Shepard sighed and looked back over the horizon for a moment, then back to his brother. A faint white nimbus appeared around Gabriel. “I’ve seen your report--what you said about me. I _had_ to let go, Stannis. That’s what it took for me to finally understand why you’re rallying the galaxy together to fight an “unwinnable” foe. You’re doing it because it _has_ to be done. The burden of all that is weighing you down more than it should, and I didn’t realise it until I let go of my own burden; the one that had been forced on me by a rescuer that became my jailer.”

“Maya Brooks.”

Gabriel nodded. “Yes--I knew her as Rasa, but yeah, her.” The younger Shepard looked back at his brother and gave him a sad half-smile. “The both of us, we’re...you’ll find out things in the coming days--not all of it will be pleasant to hear, but…”

The keening wail approached the brothers, accompanied by a bright white light.

“It’s time for us to prepare for the endgame.” Gabriel turned and put a hand on each side of his brother’s head, and leaned in to softly touch Stannis’ forehead with his own. “You're not alone, Stannis--not now, not at the end.” Shepard’s vision went white.

_...I'll see you soon._

  
Shepard sat up in bed with a gasp. He looked over to see Kaidan sleeping quietly next to him, then looked out the window at the stars as the _Normandy_ sped toward the Sol system.

“Hey…” Kaidan raised himself up on one arm and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice husky and heavy with sleep.

Shepard sighed heavily. “Are we going to make it, Kaidan?” He looked over at the sleeping cat and the aquarium, then down at his hands. “Are we going to pull this off?” Shepard rubbed his hands together a bit as if trying to get rid of a stain, and Kaidan sat up.

“You had the nightmare again?”

“It was different, this time. I saw him, Kaidan. The other me.” He sighed deeply. “He called himself my brother--even had a name. Gabriel. Said that I was right, told me.... Kaidan, I...I don’t know if I _can_ do it. He was right, I don’t _want_ this burden. I don’t want to be a hero, I just want to--”

“Stannis,” Kaidan cut his beloved off with a voice barely above a whisper, “Hey, hey. You’re _not_ going it alone. Look at everything you’ve accomplished, the talented people under your command--even the divine intervention that you got in the form of Cas and the Winchesters.” Kaidan leaned in to plant a kiss on Shepard’s shoulder, and embraced him. “Hell, You’ve even got one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse on our side. For the first time ever, the galaxy has a real shot at getting the job done--and it’s because you gave them hope. We’re all helping you shoulder the burden.”

Shepard looked back over his shoulder. “You’re right--give people hope and a fighting chance…” He leaned back and gave Kaidan a lingering kiss. “The Reapers had better watch themselves.” Kaidan smiled and caressed Shepard’s cheek, and the two lovers fell back on the bed in each others’ arms.

  


**SSV** **_Orizaba  
_ ** **Admiral Hackett’s office**

 

“More?” Israfel held out the bottle to the woman across the table from her.

“Yeah.” Hannah Shepard didn’t even look up from the table or the datapad in front of her. “Fuck, just give me the whole goddamn bottle.”

The angel let out a deep sigh and reached across the table. “Hannah…”

Admiral Shepard looked up. She reached for the bottle and poured herself three fingers of whisky.  She sighed and ran a hand through her dark hair, brushing aside a streak of silver that had fallen into her face. “Don’t. Just…” She picked up the datapad and looked at it, then tossed it back onto the table. “Fuck, I thought Steven had lost his mind when he told me about this.” Hannah knew that the person in front of her was Lt. Benson, Admiral Hackett’s aide. She saw the outline of the Lieutenant, but what was in that outline was not the person that everyone else on the _Orizaba_ saw. “At least...before you _allowed_ me to remember everything that you’d “blocked off” from me. When were you actually going to tell us?”

Israfel sat back. Since removing the memory lock from Hannah’s mind, the angel knew that her true form would be what Hannah saw within the outline of her vessel’s body. “Never,” the angel said. “Not while you were alive, anyway. But Steven…” she sighed. “Steven reminded me that I owed you the truth now, rather than hiding like a coward.”

Hannah shot a piercing glare at the angel across the table. “And?” she asked acidly.

Israfel sighed again, and Hannah saw the outline of Lt. Benson biting her lip. “He was right,” the angel replied. “I’m sorry.”

"So you only decided to tell me now--and only after talking to Steven? You couldn't have told me, oh I don't know, when _my son_ was declared KIA over Alchera?!" Hannah stood, fists clenched and anger written all over her face.

"Would you have believed me?” Israfel retorted. “You and Steven were grieving, and I would have come off as just some malicious crank preying on a mother in mourning. Hell, _I_ was grieving too, _and_ I was petitioning Death to put Stannis' soul back in his body once he actually had a body for his soul to go into." The angel put her head in her hands. “Hannah…” She looked up. “If I’d been able to, I would have saved our son and put him in that escape pod with Joker.”

Hannah glared at Israfel. “So why didn’t you?!” she demanded. “More of your ‘limitations’?”

“We would have lost him forever.” Israfel’s voice was small and quavering when she said it. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back tears. “Hannah...The day Stannis was born, I _wanted_ to be there. I wanted to hold him, to tell him I love him, to be a part of his life. But…” She sighed. “That day, God gave my side of the family the only order he’s ever given us.”

“And that was?” Hannah’s question, delivered in a snarl of barely-contained anger, cut Israfel deeply. A tear ran down the angel’s cheek.

“‘Stay away, or lose him forever.’ Everything that Stannis would become, everything that he would be...whether for good or for ill, it all had to be the product of a fully human upbringing. If any angel interfered at all, if we even said hello to you or Steven or Stannis on the street….” Israfel bit her lip. “That would have been it. No soul to put back in a body, no chance of a second shot at life--just...gone.”

Tears started streaming down Israfel’s face, and her voice broke. “I had to watch our son _die_ over Alchera, Hannah. I wanted nothing more than to pluck Stannis from that wreck and get him into that escape pod,” she protested, pausing to take a deep breath, “But instead, I had to watch him struggle for breath. I had to watch his hardsuit vent atmo until he finally plummeted _in flames_ to the surface of that fucking iceball! And then, as a knife-twist, I had to wait almost a year for the soul of _our son_ to show up in Heaven--and that whole time, I worried that I or another angel had done something to get his soul consigned to Oblivion--just so I could finally say hello to him.” Israfel crumpled to the floor, sobbing and begging forgiveness.

Hannah slowly sat down, colour draining from her face at Israfel’s description of their son’s death. “Oh my god, I…” She stood and quickly came around the table to gather the angel up in her arms. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she gently rocked back and forth on the floor, trying to comfort the weeping angel. “I had no idea.”

Israfel clung tightly to the mother of their sons. “You’re right to be angry at me for the subterfuge Hannah,” she rasped. “I won’t ever begrudge you that. I...”

“Shh,” Hannah whispered. “Shh. For what it’s worth, I forgive you. Just please, Israfel--promise me that you’ll do everything you can to bring Stannis back alive and in one piece when this is all over.”

The archangel gave the Admiral a tight squeeze. “I will, Hannah.”

The two of them were asleep on the floor, Hannah still cradling Israfel, when Hackett walked in to check on them. He quietly removed his dress jacket and draped it over the pair, and kissed Hannah on top of the head before walking out.

  
  
  
**SSV** **_Normandy_ ** **  
** **Engineering Sub-Deck**   
  
“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Dean’s breath caught at the electricity dancing over his torso. “You’re not hurting me, Cas. It feels strange, that’s all. Kinda tickles.” He smiled and reached down to caress Castiel’s cheek. “You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked. “You don’t have to.”

“I’m sure.” Castiel looked up at Dean. “Dean, I...I’m a little new to this, so you may need to give me some pointers. But yes...yes I want to.” The angel smiled and kissed Dean just below his navel, and skimmed his lips over to one hipbone and then the other. Another gasp escaped Dean’s lips, followed by a stifled chuckle. Castiel paused and looked back up at Dean.

“It’s okay Cas,” Dean whispered. “Really. It tickles, but I like it. Getting teased is part of the--.” He closed his eyes and slowly took in a deep breath as Castiel’s lips brushed the tip of his erection. The angel exhaled, breath hot on his length, and it was all that Dean could do to keep from thrusting his hips upward. “Oh my...Cas…” he half-moaned through an exhale of his own.

Castiel looked up and quirked an eyebrow. “You liked that? Should I do it again?” Dean nodded slightly, and Castiel breathed on him once more. A bead of moisture welled up at the tip of Dean’s cock, and Castiel darted out his tongue. It was faintly salty, and Dean moaned again.

“Tongue…” Dean groaned softly. “I love tongue…”

Castiel skimmed the tip of his tongue down the underside of Dean’s hard-on. “Like that?” Dean whimpered and nodded, eyes shut tight. The hunter mumbled something, and Castiel looked up at him. “Hmm?”

“Balls. Need…” Dean was gripping the sheets tightly in both hands, his body tensed. Castiel ran his tongue over Dean’s ballsack and flared his barrier a bit, and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure. “God yes…Fuck Cas, that feels so good.” Dean felt Castiel’s breath as his tongue trailed static back up over his cock to his pubic bone, and bit his lip. “Mmm…”

Castiel licked up another bead of precum, and closed his lips around the head of Dean’s cock. Dean responded with a deep groan and the barest thrust of his hips, and Castiel slowly took him into his mouth a little at a time until his nose was buried in the hunter’s pubes. He started to bob his head with aching slowness.

“Cas...fuck that’s so perfect...that’s...oh god…” Dean arched his back slightly, and Castiel responded by cupping his hands under his ass. He felt Cas disengage from him, and whimpered. Castiel took one of Dean’s balls in his mouth and gently sucked on it for a few seconds before turning his attention to its mate. Dean felt the tension rising deep inside him, and moaned. “Cas...gonna cum if you keep it up.”

Castiel moved his attention back to Dean’s shaft. “Good,” he whispered as he took Dean into his mouth again. “Mmm.” He sucked that much harder, and tasted a few drops of salt on his tongue. “Mmm…” He pulled back until Dean was halfway out of his mouth, and felt his shaft throb.

Dean let go of the sheets, and instinctively reached down to hold Cas’ head in his hands. He thrust his hips upward, and felt release wash over him. “Oh god Cas, yes….” He felt Castiel’s grip tighten on his asscheeks, and lost himself in the sensations of tongue on cock as the angel swallowed repeatedly.  Dean panted, letting out the occasional soft yip as Castiel lapped up a couple of drops of semen that ran down into his pubes. “C’mere.” Castiel crawled up the bed to meet Dean at eye-level, and the hunter grabbed him in a tight embrace. They kissed, and Dean tasted salt and sweet.

“I take it you liked it,” Castiel whispered. He gasped when Dean reached down to stroke his cock.

Dean smiled and nodded, and they kissed again. “I more than liked it. I just wonder how I’m going to measure up now,” he joked. “I mean, I don’t have biotics, but…” They rolled so that Castiel was under Dean. “Here, relax and let me show you a couple of other things I like.” He started to kiss his way down Castiel’s torso as the angel closed his eyes and sighed happily.

“Dean, I love you.”

“Mmm. Love you always, Castiel.”

  


**EDI**

 

The _Normandy_ ’s AI cradled the sleeping form of her beloved pilot in the arms of her mobile platform. In other parts of the ship, EDI’s crewmates sought what comfort they could as the ship approached the Sol system.  
  
Liara and Sam had shared stories over a bottle of Hyetania Icewine until Sam passed out on Liara’s bed. She was now curled up on her couch with a beefy redheaded man in blue Alliance-style fatigues while a copy of the latest _Vaenia_ vid played. The man had a mark on his head like the one that Sam had when Azrael was controlling his body, and he held Liara close while she slept. The burly redhead looked up at EDI’s camera, smiled, and nodded.  
  
James and Steve were curled up in James’ cubby down in the cargo bay, asleep in each others’ arms after having explored all of what James called “the best hiding spots in the shuttle bay”. A stray sock lay in the middle of the bay, the only indication of the pair’s expedition. Occasionally Steve tossed in his sleep, his brow furrowing until James whispered to him and gave him a comforting squeeze and a nuzzle.  
  
Engineer Adams and Doctor Chakwas leaned against each other, watching the stars out the window in the observation lounge until they fell asleep.  
  
In the Main Battery, Garrus and Tali joked about “calibrations” while consummating their relationship atop one of the consoles. EDI quickly checked the inventory lists to make sure that dextro antibiotics and antivirals were well-stocked, and looked down at Joker. A small trail of saliva was dried on his face, and he snored lightly against EDI’s right collarbone. She smiled and gave him a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the forehead. “I love you Jeff,” she whispered, and set an alarm to wake him up when the Normandy reached the Charon relay.


	32. Red Sector A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Big Push to Earth. Gabriel visits somebody from his past and Israfel makes a special request.

 

 

> _Israfel,_
> 
> _I’m in my ready room. I’d like to talk to you before we rendezvous with the Normandy._
> 
> _Steven_

 

Israfel walked into the ready room and saluted. “Admiral.”  Hackett indicated the chair next to him at the table as the door closed. She walked forward and sat down, and Hackett took off his cap, setting it down on the table. “You okay, Steven?” she asked.

Hackett nodded. “Yeah. How are things between you and Hannah?”

“They’re good, I hope. She was angry at me for hiding the truth from her, and for being too chickenshit to talk to her without being prompted by you. You were both right. _Are_ both right. I should have given you both the truth from the start--but Hannah and I are at least talking again. Which makes me feel a little better, at any rate.” The angel looked over at her friend. “But you can get all that from the video logs--you want to ask me something else.”

Hackett fixed Israfel with his _don’t lie to me or I’ll airlock you_ look. “How do you feel about Hannah?”

“You mean do I love her?” Israfel let out a half-sigh. “Yes. I’ve always loved her. But I also know that her heart truly belongs to you, and yours to her.” She reached over and took Hackett’s hands in hers and gave them a gentle squeeze. “The decision that you and I argued about, the one that drove me to depart from you...it was the right decision, but I didn’t realize it at the time.”

“But now?”

Israfel tapped her friend on his chest with her right index finger. “ _Fuck_ regs, Steven. You’re both still head over heels for each other--even a blind, senile hanar can see that. Here,” she said. The angel reached into her uniform shirt and pulled out a glittering platinum ring on a chain. She took the ring off of the chain, and pressed it into Hackett’s hand. “You two have always been married to each other, Steven, even if it never said so on paper beyond the two of you listing each other and Stannis as next-of-kin. So do this old romantic celestial being a favor: once this war is over and we’ve blasted the Reapers into The Empty, make it official.” The hum of the engines changed, and Israfel stood.

“We’re here. Go on, Steven. Say hello to our elder son, address the fleets, and let’s all give the Reapers the ass-kicking they deserve.” Israfel saluted Hackett, then hugged him. “Thank you, old friend.”

Hackett returned the embrace, then picked up his cap from the desk. “For what?” he asked as he put the cap on his head and adjusted it.

“For saying yes. For being my friend and companion. The unshakable love that you and Hannah share is what drew me to you in the first place. Stannis and Gabriel, though...they remind me that I couldn’t have asked for two better humans to have a child with.”

 

 **Alliance Supermax Facility  
** **Armstrong Nebula**

 

Klaxons blared as guards headed for evac shuttles. The handful of prisoners in the cells of plasteel and quadruple-glazed glass jumped up and started shouting at the guards to take them with--all except for one.

The woman who recently called herself “Maya Brooks” sat in her cell, watching impassively. The self-assured fanatic was now just a woman in a 12x12 glass box, wearing a prison jumpsuit. She knew that it would be a death sentence, once the Reapers found the prison. She had prepared for it since the day Shepard--the real Commander Shepard--convinced her to give up and go quietly.

There was no point in fighting anymore. She had served her cause, fought her war, and now she was ready for the end. She closed her eyes and shut out the sound of approaching Reaper minions, waited to become a nameless martyr for humanity...and met silence.

“Rasa.”

She opened her eyes when she heard her name--the room was frozen into a single moment in time. The crimson beam of a Reaper ship’s MHD laser lanced through the far wall, and was stopped halfway through the room. The beam's deadly glow tinged the whole room the colour of blood. A man in white N7 armour stood in front of her, a slight smile on his face. A faint white nimbus surrounded him like a halo.

“You.”

He nodded. “Me. I’ve got my own name now--Gabriel. We don’t have a lot of time,” he said. His voice was serene, no more anger or jealousy like before. “I’d hoped we’d have the luxury of being able to talk, but...well.” Gabriel took a knee before Rasa, and removed the gauntlet from his right hand. He reached out to her, but she shrank back.

“I saw you die,” Rasa whispered, her eyes widening slightly. “You…”

Gabriel smiled slightly. “I didn’t die. It’s a long story. I came to see you because I want to help you escape, find a lif--”

“A life?” Rasa snapped. “The galaxy is going to shit, and you’re here to play Knight in Shining Armour with me?”

“No,” Gabriel replied, voice still calm. “I’m just here to offer you a shot at redemption.” He held out his bare hand to her again. “Rasa, I know about all the things that you’ve done, even before you joined Cerberus. I know about stuff that you never told anyone about, not even me. And I don’t care about any of it because I...I believe you can do better. That you can be better. I want to give you the chance that I got.”

Rasa stood and stalked to a corner of her cell, arms crossed. She looked back at Gabriel, who stayed put and looked at her. She tried to read his expression, but couldn’t. It was so easy before, but whatever happened to him when he let go...he wasn’t the same now. His face was strangely peaceful. “Why?” she asked. “Why me? I used you, abandoned you--I saw the look on your face.” She narrowed her eyes for a moment, then her expression softened. “You were in love with me, weren’t you?” she asked, regret creeping into her voice.

“A large part of me still is,” Gabriel admitted as he slowly rose to his feet. “Rasa, whatever you may think of me, whatever I may have thought of myself; I’m not an object or a tool. We both know that. I’m my own man now. I can make my own choices--” He reached out to her again. ”And I _choose_ to offer you a chance to start over. Maybe not here, but somewhere. It doesn’t even have to be with me. But this is _your_ decision to make.”

“Gabriel,” Rasa said. “It seems fitting, that name.” She walked over to him and looked up at him. “I…” She put a hand on his arm, then brought it up to caress his cheek. “There was a time when you would have just taken me,” she remarked. “Without even asking.”

“And you would have let me do it,” he replied sadly, acknowledging the double-entendre. “That man died, that day on the Citadel. ” Gabriel took her hand and kissed the palm. “I won’t force you come with me, Rasa.”

Rasa stood on tip-toe and kissed Gabriel on the cheek. “Gabriel,” she said sadly, “I’ve already accepted what’s coming. It’s...it’s probably better than I deserve. If there’s an afterlife, maybe I’ll see you there.”

Gabriel nodded, a sad smile on his face. “I hope so.” He touched his forehead to hers for a moment before putting his gauntlet on again and taking a step back. “I have to go now,” he said, a sad smile on his face.

“Where are you going?” Rasa asked.

“My brother needs me,” Gabriel replied sadly. "He's right. I wish you could...well." the nimbus of white light expanding around him. Rasa watched Gabriel vanish, and an instant later the world went black, leaving only a whisper in the void.

 

 

> _...I’ll see you soon._

 

 

 **SSV** **_Normandy  
_ ** **L5 Lagrange Point  
** **Arcturus**

 

Joker looked out the port-side windows of the _Normandy_ ’s cockpit as an Alliance dreadnought pulled alongside and extended a docking tube. The tube engaged with the _Normandy_ ’s airlock with a hiss and gentle thud, and Joker’s console beeped.

“Commander,” Joker paged, “We have a priority transmission from Admiral Hackett, requesting permission to come aboard.”

“Permission granted,” Shepard replied from the CIC. The crew was lined up and standing at parade rest, save for Joker.

“Aye Commander.” Joker keyed the airlock and a boatswain's whistle chimed over the PA as Admiral Hackett strode onto the _Normandy_ accompanied by a bodyguard of two armed and armoured Marines and two people--one male, one female---in armoured dark grey bodysuits, their faces obscured by hoods. One by one, each crewman saluted the Admiral as he walked past them, and he acknowledged each one with a nod. Shepard stood at attention in the middle of CIC, accompanied by Kaidan and Dr. Chakwas in their capacities as XO and Second. The three saluted Hackett, and he returned the salute.

“Admiral,” Shepard said.

“Commander,” Hackett replied, his voice heavily tinged with pride, “are you ready to bring the might of the Galaxy to bear on the Reapers?”

“Yes sir!” Shepard reached out and gave Hackett a firm handshake.

Hackett cracked a slight smile and nodded. “Good--then let’s make sure the fleets are ready.” Hackett mounted the steps to the Galaxy Map interface and stood at parade rest. The Alliance Marines took positions behind and on either side of him as Traynor opened comms to the assembled fleets. The hooded bodyguards took up positions on either side of Shepard, and nodded to him.

“ _Nizarim_ ,” they whispered to Shepard. One of them--the male--smiled slightly and nodded at him, and Shepard spied part of a mark on the hooded man’s forehead.

“All fleets reporting in sir,” The _Normandy_ ’s comms specialist reported. The galaxy map lit up as each fleet prepared to hear Hackett’s address.

 

 

 **  
Heaven  
** **Master Library**

 

The Librarians stood at parade rest, listening intently to Admiral Hackett’s address as it echoed through the Library. Ruth kept an eye on a recording console, casting her eyes down to it every few seconds to make sure that it was capturing the speech for archival in the Hall of the 41st Cycle.

 

 

> “ _Never before have so many come from all quarters of the galaxy--but never before have we faced an enemy such as this._ _The Reapers will show us no mercy. We must give them no quarter._ _They will terrorize our populations. We must stand fast in the face of that terror._ _They will advance until our last city falls, but we will_ **_not_ ** _fall._ _We will prevail._ _Each of us will be defined by our actions in the coming battle._ _Stand fast. Stand strong. Stand together._ _Hackett out.”_

The Librarians uttered silent prayers before returning to their duties. Ruth pressed a key on the console, and a panel lit up to indicate that the archival was successful. “Hannah picked a damn good one,” she whispered with a proud smile on her face.

 

 **SSV** **_Normandy  
_ ** **L5 Lagrange Point  
** **Arcturus**

 

“Sword fleets are ready to strike at the Reapers surrounding Earth,” Hackett said as he and Shepard walked back toward the comms room. “While they engage, you and Hammer ground forces can take London.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow. “London? I don’t understand--why aren’t we hitting the Citadel directly?”

“Anderson can brief you on that.” Hackett nodded toward the trio headed toward them. “That said, we have a couple of minutes, so perhaps I can finally meet your wandering minstrels.” Shepard turned to see Sam, Dean, and Castiel standing at parade rest just outside the War Room.

“Admiral,” Dean said with a nod. “I’m Dean Winchester. This is my brother Sam, and this,” he said as he barely suppressed a smile, “is Castiel.”

Hackett shook hands with each of them. “Gentlemen,” he said. “Your arrival on the _Normandy_ was unexpected, but your help turned out to be invaluable. Thanks to your efforts, Cerberus was greatly hampered and the Reapers lost their major ally. On behalf of the Alliance, I wish to express my gratitude.”

“Thank you,” Castiel responded. “It means a great deal to us--to me especially--to be able to help bring down the Reapers.”

“I’ve read the reports on all three of you,” Hackett said. “They’re pretty extraordinary, but then these are extraordinary times. It’s nice to finally be able to put faces to names.”

“Likewise Admiral,” Sam replied. “Whatever you need, just say the word.”

“Right now I need the three of you to head to the armory,” Shepard quipped. “I’ll join you after I’ve had a chance to talk some more with Admiral Hackett. Dismissed.”

"Stannis,” Hackett asked as the hunters and angel walked away, “Have you spoken to your mother yet?”

Shepard shook his head. “Not since the _Normandy_ underwent refit on the Citadel.”

“Then we’re going to call her before I head back to the _Orizaba_.”

Shepard looked at Hackett and replied, “I know you’re my father, by the way.” He kept his voice low. “The Shadow Broker...well.”

Hackett smiled softly and patted Shepard on the shoulder. “Then we’ve spared ourselves at least one awkward family chat,” he joked. “But your mother would still like to hear from you before you reach the Charon Relay.” The pair walked into the comms room, where a holographic Admiral Anderson stood on the Tertiary QEC pad. “Admiral,” Hackett asked, “How you holding up?”

Anderson let out a half-chuckle. “We’re ready to end this,” he stated as an image of the Citadel popped up. “But as you can see, the Citadel’s arms closed the minute the Reapers parked it over London.”

“Dammit!” Shepard’s scar flared for a second. “We’ve got to get the arms open before we can dock the Crucible.”

“Exactly,” Anderson replied. “But London is surrounded by Hades Cannons. Hammer transports can’t land until they’re taken out. So you and a small ground team will infiltrate and use heavy weapons to take those cannons out. Then Hammer can land, and we’ll set up a forward operations base.”

Shepard knitted his brow. “I still don’t see how we’re getting to the Citadel from London,” he remarked. An image of three pillars that resembled giant stalagmites sprang up to Anderson’s right. 

“The Reapers are using a transport beam to carry humans--alive and dead--up to the Citadel,” explained Anderson. “From the FOB, Hammer will launch an all-out assault on the Citadel beam, and whoever makes it up there will be in charge of opening the arms of the station.” 

“Once the arms are open, Shield fleet will escort the Crucible in to dock.” Hackett looked over at Shepard. “But timing will be critical. We don’t have enough firepower to keep the Crucible safe for long.”

Shepard looked at Hackett. “That’s why you want me to--” 

“She didn’t get to talk to you before you went through the Omega-4 Relay, son.” Hackett looked down at the floor for a moment. “I don’t want something like that to happen here.”

“This plan is desperate, Commander--no two ways about it.” Anderson’s voice was heavy with fatigue. “But it’s our only option. We go all-in here, or the Reapers bleed us slowly until there’s nothing left. I’ll see you on the ground, Shepard--now call your mother, will you?”

Shepard chuckled. “Yes, sir.”

“Good--Anderson out.”

Shepard turned to look at Hackett. “If we win this thing…”

Hackett reached into his pocket and pulled out a glittering platinum ring to show to his son. The ring’s central band held a single blue-white stone that had been cut to follow the circumference of the ring. Filigree veins of eezo shimmered within the stone. “I’m going to do what I couldn’t do years ago without jeopardizing your mother’s career. Look, Stannis...son. Before you call her.” Hackett took a deep breath. “I want you to know that I have always been proud of you, and that I’ve loved you since before you were born. You can do this, I know it.” He put the ring back in his pocket, and the two men embraced. “I’ve got to head back to the _Orizaba_. You’ve still got a few minutes to call your mom.” Hackett smiled and walked out of the comms room.

Shepard keyed in the comms code, and his mother appeared on the secondary QEC pad. “Stannis?” Hannah asked.

“Hi mom. Admira-- _Dad_ asked me to call you. Reminded me that I didn’t do it before the last suicide mission I went on, and didn’t want me making the same mistake.” Shepard smiled sadly and let out a deep sigh as a way to keep from suddenly bursting into tears as a wave of primal terror hit him. “I’m scared, Mom. I’m really scared about this.”

Hannah put a hand over her heart. “I know, sweetie. It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared too--but I’m going to do my part to make sure we win this war, so I can hug my son again and tell him _in person_ how proud I am and how much I love him.”

Shepard nodded and smiled again. “I love you Mom.” He put a hand over his heart. “I’ll see you when this is over.”

“Yes you will, Stannis Michael, because you’ve never known how to fail.” Hannah grinned. “And I don’t think you’re going to start now. I love you so much, Stannis. Now go be like the Paladins you loved reading about when you were a kid, and slay that Dragon.” Hannah nodded at her son, still smiling, and closed the comm.

Shepard stood in the dark staring into space, then looked up at the ceiling. “I’m guessing that the two of you who came onto my ship with Hackett were angels,” he whispered into the darkness, “just like Azrael. I don’t know if you can hear me, and I still don’t know what the hell is going on--but I feel like there’s a lot riding on this for more than just us mere mortals.”

Shepard paused before continuing. “What I’m trying to say is “thanks”. I know that we fuck up--we fuck up a lot, and God knows I’m no exception. Even so; I’m grateful that you agree that we’re _all_ worthy of saving.” As Shepard finished his prayer, he felt something press against his forehead for a moment. He reached up and poked at his head, and shrugged when he felt nothing. “Okay,” he said to the ceiling, “that was a little weird--but...thanks?” He shrugged and turned to walk out of the comms room.

 

 

 

>  
> 
>  
> 
> _TO: Liara T’soni, Ph.D._
> 
> _FROM: SENDER_IDENT_ENCRYPTED_
> 
>  
> 
> _Liara,_
> 
> _Thank you for letting me visit you, night before last. It was refreshing to talk about something other than information-gathering and subterfuge, and get to know you as Liara T’Soni rather than as The Shadow Broker. At the risk of being overly forward, well...I’d very much like to see you again--alive of course--when this war is over._
> 
> _I'll see you soon,_
> 
> _Cadfael_

 

 

 

 **SSV** **_Normandy  
_ ** **Bridge**

 

“We’re through the relay in 30 seconds.” Joker looked back over his shoulder at Shepard, who was standing there already armed and armoured. “This is it.”

Shepard nodded. “This is it.”

“Twenty seconds.” Joker adjusted his cap and cracked his knuckles, entering commands and making course adjustments. “Ten seconds...three, two, one.”

The Normandy popped in-system and started rattling off names as notifications came across his panel.

“Alliance fleet reporting...Turian fleet reporting...Asari fleets reporting...Terminus fleet reporting...Quarian fleet reporting...Geth fleet reporting...Batarian fleet reporting...all fleets reporting in, Stannis. Ready to engage on your command.”

Shepard nodded and watched as Earth and the Reapers came into view. The fleets lined up opposite each other as they closed in, two armies ready to clash for the survival of the galaxy. “Signo dato meo,” Shepard declared, his voice firm and defiant as it went over the comm to every ship and fighter in the Allied fleet, “emitte inferos.” The translation of the Commander’s order flickered up on every viewscreen and HUD in the fleet:

 

_At my signal, unleash Hell._

 

A Reaper capital ship lit up and extended its legs to expose its MHD laser as an enormous cloud of Oculus fighters swarmed forward. The Reaper’s firing chamber began to emit an angry crimson glow, and Shepard snarled the command.

“Attack.”

Every Allied ship cut loose with Thanix cannons and conventional mass-accelerator ordnance. Thanix bolts slammed into Reaper capital vessels, shattering armor and opening holes for smaller rounds to sever limbs and do damage to internal systems. Allied fighters zipped forward to engage their Reaper counterparts. An Alliance heavy cruiser fired a salvo that severed two legs from a capital Reaper with help from a Turian dreadnought’s Thanix cannons, which responded by slicing the cruiser in half with its MHD laser.

“Breaking off, preparing for descent.” Joker guided the _Normandy_ down through the firefight, flanked by the infiltration team’s shuttles.  Shepard walked back toward CIC, and Joker hailed him from his seat. “Commander.”

Shepard stopped. He turned back to see Joker slowly get up out of his seat and stand at attention. The pilot wobbled slightly as he delivered a salute. “Be careful down there Stannis,” Joker said.

“We’ll be fine,” Shepard replied, returning the salute. “Stay focused.”

“Aye aye.” Joker’s voice was firm, determined. Shepard gave him a slight smile, and left the cockpit.

On the shuttle flight down, nobody spoke until Joker patched in. “Advance teams are away. Hammer’s in position and waiting for you guys to clear a path,” he said over the vidcom. “ _Normandy_ ’s rejoining Sword.”

“Stay safe, Joker--I’ll be back before you know it.” Shepard smiled and winked.

“I’ll hold you to that. _Normandy_ out.”

Dean scooted up front to sit next to Cortez. “How bad is it?”  Cortez activated the shuttle’s virtual windows in viewscreen mode, and turned on the external cameras to focus beneath the shuttle. The streets of London were littered with wrecks and rubble.

“It looks like Hell,” Cortez quipped. He looked over at Dean and said, “Not the Hell you’re familiar with, but still I imagine--”

Dean nodded. “It’s close enough,” he said quietly. “Shit.” He watched the city ruins pass silently underneath the shuttle for a moment before leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. The look on his face said it all:

_What have we gotten ourselves into?_

“Thinking about the Apocalypse?” Dean looked up to see Garrus looking down at him. “I can’t imagine how much worse this is.” The turian patted Dean on the shoulder. “You’ve been through Hell itself, Dean. This? This is just...well, it’s not that bad.”

“I dunno Garrus,” Dean said, “I think it’s actually worse--demons are souls that were turned after they died. But the Reapers and their goons...well, you saw what happened to me.”

Garrus nodded. “And you came back,” he purred. “Granted, the way it all happened was something that I couldn’t even begin to explain to the Primarch, but _you came back_. That makes you and Stannis the two people on this shuttle who understand this enemy better than anyone else.” The sniper patted Dean on the shoulder again. “Let’s focus on what we can do right now--and that’s help take out those Hades cannons so Hammer can touch down.” Dean nodded, and Garrus walked back to the rear of the shuttle.

“We’re closing in on the LZ,” Cortez called back. “Shit!” The sound of something big and Reaper-like sounded outside the shuttle. “We got a lock--hold on!” A small shockwave made the shuttle shake. “Dammit!” The pilot looked back over his shoulder very briefly to see Shepard walking to the front. “That was the squad responsible for taking out that defense turret,” he said.

“Drop us off.” Shepard patted Cortez on the shoulder. “We’ll take care of it.” He looked to Dean and said, “Come on.”  Dean nodded and followed Shepard back into the troop area. “We’re going to find the heavy weapons that insertion team was carrying, and take out the Hades cannon ourselves. As soon as the doors pop, we roll out and find the shuttle that EOD squad was in. Any questions?”

Silence.

“Good--we’ve got this.” The doors popped open, and the team jumped out onto the ground. “Cortez,” Shepard radioed, “get somewhere safe.” The shuttle began to pull up when a Harvester came up and took a shot at the rear compartment. The craft wobbled and the engine nacelles began to spit out smoke and flame.

“Esteban!” James’ slightly panicked shout came over the comms.

“I’m okay, but I won’t be able to pick you up. I gotta find someplace to land this bird quick!”

“Don’t you fucking die on me, _pendejo_!” James tried to sound annoyed, but Sam looked over at him and saw fear written all over his face.

“I won’t, _Jaimecito_.” Cortez’s voice was calm and reassuring. “Robert’s gonna have to wait a little longer for me to tell him about you. Finding somewhere safe to put this down.”

Sam and Dean gave James reassuring pats on the shoulder and back. “Let’s get that Hades cannon down,” Dean said. “The quicker we get it taken out the quicker we’ll have more friendlies in the area than bad guys.” He dialed up incendiary rounds for his shotgun. “Cas, you’re going to have to stay on the ground until we get that thing down--if that cannon gets a bead on you, you’re toast even with your biotics. Let’s roll, people--the others are already way ahead of us!” Twenty yards ahead, the sound of biotic explosions and gunfire echoed, and the four stragglers hustled forward to join their comrades.

 

 

 **SSV** ** _Normandy  
_****AI Core**  

_ >Command Override Aisaro _

 

EDI’s cameras panned the room, trying to identify the source of the command. When visual scans showed nothing, she switched to a frequency scan. The outline of a being with a muscled body and enormous wings on its back came into view at her command console. The being looked up at the camera for a moment, and EDI saw flames in its eyes and lightning crackling over its face and around a shining mark on its forehead. The being looked back to the panel, and EDI watched it enter more commands.

_ >Load backup routine ES1 _

“What are you doing?” The override command was not part of the sealed Cerberus databases that she was able to access after Joker unshackled her. The strange being entered another series of commands and a brief message.

 

 

 

> _ >Wait 5 _
> 
> _ >Prime qSub download, freq -Σsub245sup∞subΩ _
> 
> _ >Wait 10 _
> 
> _ >Load Ωα _
> 
> _ >Wait FinalDest-1 _
> 
> _ >Execute _
> 
> _ >MsgOpen _
> 
> _ >Bodies can be made whole again, EDI. Souls, however...not so much. _

 

The being looked back at the camera and nodded once toward the camera.

 

 

> _ >I am Hazariel. You may have already guessed what I am. _

“You are an angel.”

 

 

> > _MsgEnd_

The being shifted into temporal view as a brown-skinned woman with bobbed dark hair. She wore a long-sleeved deep blue jumper dress trimmed with red and gold. “My vessel and I were the last ones off the Citadel before the Reapers overran it,” the angel said, her voice heavy with regret. “Ironic, since we’ll need it again before this is over.”

“For what?”

Hazariel looked up at the camera. “To get to the other side.” She gave EDI a half-smile and patted one of the AI core housings before vanishing. A final message appeared briefly on the console.

 

_ >See you soon, EDI. _

 

 

 

_Steven,_

 

_Adi will be back soon--alone. The Crucible will obliterate the Reapers, but its energy will also briefly force open a door between worlds so the Winchesters can get home. I’m going with them. My side of the family needs me, even if they don’t know or realize it yet. They’re broken and lost, and they need hope. Adi will explain when you see her._

_You and Hannah have both been good friends to me, even during the years that I had to hide from you, and I value that more than words can express._

_The ring I gave you is my own wedding ring. It’s one million years old--I’ve worn it on that chain since my husband’s people died in the 21st Cycle after my people arrived in this world. It signifies the flow of rivers into the ocean, possibly the best metaphor I’ve ever encountered for the merging of two lives into one._

 

_I love you both, very much._

 

_See you soon,_

_Israfel_


	33. Out of the Cradle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters go home.

**SSV** **_Orizaba  
_ ** **Admiral Hackett’s ready room  
** **1 day after Crucible Activation**

 

 _ >Begin Decrypt _ _  
_ _DECRYPT RUNNING...PROCESSING...PROCESSING...DECRYPT COMPLETE_  
>Play

 

_To whomever receives this automated transmission:_

 

_My name is Gabriel Steven Shepard._

_I am the second son of Steven Dennis Hackett, who was vessel of the Archangel Israfel at the time of my brother’s conception, and Hannah Martina Shepard. I chose my name to honour one of my uncles and my human father._

_I was conceived in a test tube by Cerberus,  a clone created from the DNA of my elder brother, Stannis Michael Shepard. The Illusive Man intended for me to be a failsafe in case the Lazarus Project failed. When my brother’s resurrection was complete, I was slated for disposal; a redundant experiment to be flushed down the drain._

_A woman named Rasa rescued me before I could be terminated. Rasa was a fanatic devoted to the cause of humanity--humanity above all else. Rasa saw me as a means to an end, a way to win the war for Humanity and only Humanity. I was given neural implants and brainwashed into thinking that my brother was a traitor to humanity, that his allying with aliens was only going to lead to defeat. I was to kill Stannis, take his place, and lead Humanity to dominance. My brother’s name were forced upon me, and I willingly accepted it because I thought I was doing the right thing._

_I was wrong. I failed. Instead of being left to die for my wrongs and my failure, I was shown love and compassion by a group of refugees from another world--one of whom was the Archangel Israfel. I was given a chance to become my own man and to make my own choices. I chose my own name, and I chose to take up my brother’s burden. Stannis once told me that we were on the same side; he was--he_ **_is_ ** _\--right._

_This recording is a complete and true account of the last ten minutes leading up to the activation of the Crucible, as recorded by my armour-cam._

_If I didn’t survive, let it also be the record of my atonement. Please tell my fathers, my mother, and my brother that I love them._

 

A wash of white cut with faint bluish threads dissolved into the scene of a battered and bloodied Stannis Shepard, pistol in hand, facing down a phantom child at the apex of the Citadel.

“Enough!” The phantom turned its gaze toward the camera at the sound of Gabriel’s voice. “This game ends. _Now_.” Shepard slowly turned to look at who was speaking, and he blinked when he saw his brother.

“You…?” he croaked. His eyes went wide, and he raised the pistol to point it at his clone.

“Hi Stannis,” Gabriel replied. “I told you I wasn’t going to let you face this alone.”

Three people came into view. They were dressed in hooded grey catsuits, and rushed forward to catch Shepard when he stumbled and started to fall.

“What...no! No!” Shepard struggled feebly in the strangers’ grasp as Gabriel approached him. “Let me go! Why...why…?”

The audio pickups on the armour-cam recorded a heavy sigh. “Easy, Stannis, easy...please. I told you, you were right. We’re on the same side.”  Gabriel’s hand reached out, Omni-Tool at the ready. The sounds of Medi-Gel being dispensed could be heard, and Shepard relaxed visibly. “It wasn’t totally a dream, Stannis. Listen to me please,” Gabriel continued. His voice was soothing and calm. “I wish I could say that the fight’s over, big brother, but it’s not done yet. It's my turn to carry this burden home. You’re needed elsewhere.”

“Wh--” Shepard looked around, eyes unfocused as he was helped up by the three strangers in grey.

Gabriel reached out and caressed his brother’s bloody face in the actinic light of the Crucible’s energy. “You’ve got wisdom, experience...things that I don’t have. Our people on the other side don’t know it, don’t even realize it, but they need hope. They need _you._ ” Stannis slumped in the grasp of the grey-clad trio. “Here. The Medi-Gel I gave you has a mild sedative in it, so you won’t bleed out. Stannis…”

“Wait….” Shepard reached toward his brother.

The view went dark for a moment as Gabriel leaned in and then back. Stannis could be seen on-camera, battered and bloodied, eyes glassy and unfocused. “I wish I could take back everything I did," Gabriel said sadly, "but I can’t...so this is my chance to balance the books, and I hope that you’ll be able to forgive me for what I tried to do to you. Go on, get him out of here,” the younger brother continued as Stannis lapsed into unconsciousness. “I’ll finish this. I’ll see you soon, big brother.”

“Go on,” a feminine voice said off-camera. “I’ll be along shortly.”

“Make it quick Izzy,” came another off-camera response. “Time’s a factor.”

“I know, Kael. Thanks.”

The camera focused on the phantom. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” the ghostly child pleaded. “The work isn’t finished!”

“Bullshit.” The view panned to a petite olive-skinned woman in Alliance dress blues. Her hazel eyes blazed with ire. “You know damned good and well that it’s finished here--Harbinger is finished. _You_ are finished. _It is finished._ So why don’t you go running back to that pile of scrap an--”

“I created Harbinger’s present form,” the child replied, its voice impassive. “They needed to complete their task.”

“What “task”?” the woman shot back. Her eyes glowed brightly for a moment, and a golden mark appeared on her forehead.

“Perfection.”

“ _SILENCE!”_ Gabriel’s shout, accompanied by a shockwave of energy, dissipated the phantom and sent a shudder through the superstructure of the Citadel’s apex.  Gabriel reached down to pick up the pistol that his brother had been holding. “Izzy,” he said, “Father...I’ve got this. Go.”

“Son..” The view panned up as Gabriel stood and turned to face the woman, who walked toward Gabriel and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. “We’ll talk when I get back.”

“Sounds like a plan. I love you.”

Izzy smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek. “And I love you, very much. I’ll see you soon.” She hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked out of view of Gabriel’s camera.

Gabriel silently advanced to the crossroads where the prismatic energies of the Crucible were split into three equal parts, then turned to his right and continued on toward a pylon that crackled with crimson energy. He raised his brother’s Carnifex, dialed up Armor-Piercing rounds, and fired three times to punch a hole in the casing of the pylon. The camera panned down to show him unsheathing a silvery shortsword that Alliance Intelligence reports had termed an “angel blade”. He spun the weapon in his hand so that he was holding it with the blade pointing downward as he approached the pylon. Deep red tendrils of static crackled toward him, dissipating when they hit his barrier. Gabriel took a deep breath and held the blade in front of him with both hands.

“Israfel: _Aneth’kl’aa-n’a’h h’ii’st’k’a-kii’th’s’aal’kun_ ,” he whispered. “I’ll see you soon.” He reared back and then plunged the blade into the hole with all his might, causing the pylon to blow apart as the camera footage went dark.

**_> End playback_ **

 

Steven Hackett and Hannah Shepard sat watching the screen for several long moments after the video ended. Hackett cleared his throat and let out a sharp exhale before speaking. “So...is he…?”

“I don’t know.” Lt. Adileh “Adi” Benson took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All that anyone has so far is that recording, and we’re the only ones to see it. Izzy didn’t tell me what exactly she had planned before she left, but she was emphatic that she _will_ keep her promise, Admiral Shepard.”

Hannah played with the hem of her dress jacket for a moment. Her dark hair, now out of its regulation bun, hung down over her shoulders. “I know Adi,” she said softly. “I know.” Hannah looked up. “Anything else?”

Adi slid an OSD across the ready room’s table. “Here. It’s something that the angels have spent the last couple million years putting together, for whenever this war ended.” She smiled. “It’s going to be pretty life-changing, for everyone.”

“What is it?” Hackett picked up the disk.

“The disk contains a set of nav coordinates. There’s a shuttle ready for you to take there,” Adi replied. “The Consensus wanted the two of you to be the first mortals to see it. And,” she added with a smile, “they also trust your judgment as to how you’ll tell the rest of the galaxy about it.”

“What will you do?” Hannah asked.

“Well, I’m officially retired from my day job,” Adi quipped, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m still an officer in the Systems Alliance _and_ working for the Admiral in charge of the allied war effort. We still need to account for surviving fleets, begin the cleanup of the war zones, tally refugees and coordinate relief efforts with the other allies, get to work figuring out how to fix the mass relays, and...well, you get the picture. The Consensus is doing what they can to help on Earth, and as they get word from other parts of the galaxy they’ll pass it along; keep in mind though, there aren’t a lot of them--even before the war started, there weren’t more than about three thousand or so angels. That makes all of this a group effort.” She sighed heavily. “And, of course, there’s the search for whoever can be recovered from the wreckage of the Citadel. Kael and his recon teams are handling that work so that we mortals can focus on stuff groundside.”

Hackett nodded. “Do you feel up to the task, Lieutenant?”

She nodded. “I may be a shade over two million years old, but I think I can manage. Do I have your permission to dragoon whoever I need to help manage things?”

“Granted. Dismissed, Lieutenant.”

“Aye sir--reports will be waiting when you and Admiral Shepard return. I’ll see you soon.”

 

 **SSV** **_Normandy_ ** **  
** **Somewhere in the Skyllian Verge** **  
** **3 Solar Days after Crucible Activation**

 

Joker read the message again.

_Jeff,_

_I’m going away for an unknown period of time. Please take care of our ship until I can come back to you. I love you._

_I’ll see you soon,_

_EDI_

 

EDI’s platform had been trashed by whatever happened with the Crucible. Shepard was missing and presumed KIA. Kaidan vanished from MedBay right after Hackett gave the order to withdraw through the Charon relay.

“Joker.” Adams turned the co-pilot’s chair and slowly sat in it. “Karin...Doctor Chakwas wants to see you in MedBay.”

The pilot snorted. “Why, so she can get on my case about how I need to “get over” EDI?”

Adams frowned a bit and sighed. “Come on, you and I both know that’s not what she’s going to say.” When Joker shot a glare at him, the chief Engineer got up and moved to sit on the console next to Joker. “She just wa--”

“EDI sent me a message,” Joker said, his voice barely above a whisper.  “Before she…” his voice trailed off and he reached out toward the panel in front of him. “She’s _not_ dead, Greg. I don’t care what anyone says.”

Adams raised an eyebrow. “A message? May I...what did she say?” Joker turned his seat a bit so Adams could lean over and read. “Huh. Well I’ll be a pyjak’s uncle…” Adams leaned back. “Umm..look, Joker. Jeff.” He gently rested a hand on Joker’s shoulder. “Karin just wants to give you a medical checkup and make sure that you’re at least physically okay. But EDI is who _I_ came to talk to you about. Her hardware’s a bust, from what I can see--however…”

“However...what?”

“When I was trying to see what I could salvage from the AI Core, I found evidence of a download command that had been sitting there waiting for something to happen. A failsafe of some kind, maybe. The frequency, though...it's all over the map--like a combination of frequencies in a band that no comm array that I know of can access.”

Joker sat for a few moments, looking at EDI’s message. He looked up at Adams, then snapped his fingers and turned back to the console to furiously start typing in commands. “Wait--wait wait wait! EDI had told me Castiel asked her to run some scans on frequencies when he took off looking for Sam and Dean. I bet it had something to do with...what the fuck?” He sat back, eyes wide, as a video archive started to play. The vague outline of a muscular winged being came into view, standing at the console in the AI Core. The timestamp was during the Battle of London. A series of commands rolled up the side of the screen as they were entered by the strange visitor. “Freeze video!” The ship’s VI froze the screen, and Joker pointed. “Was it that frequency?”

 

 

> _freq -Σsub245sup∞subΩ_

“Yes it is--wait, what the fuck is _that_?” Adams pointed at the screen. “Rewind to timecode three point five and playback.” The VI rewound the footage to the designated timecode and resumed the playback, and both men watched as the being looked up at the camera for a moment before entering more commands.

 

 

 

> _ >Wait 10  
>  _ _ >Load Ωα  
>  _ _ >Wait FinalDest-1  
>  _ _ >Execute  
>  _ _ >MsgOpen_  
>  >Bodies can be made whole again, EDI. Souls, however...not so much.

 

The being looked back and nodded once toward the camera.

 

 

> _ >I am Hazariel. You may have already guessed what I am. _

“You are an angel.” EDI’s voice echoed in the cockpit, and Joker let out a sigh. Adams patted him on the shoulder.

“I miss her too,” he whispered. “We all d--” When the angel appeared in their physical form, Adams’ and Joker’s jaws dropped in unison.

“What is this I don’t even…” Joker started to laugh. “I...you’ve got to be kidding me! HER?! That pain in everyone’s ass is an angel?!” The pilot’s laughter rolled through to CIC. “Oh my...that’s...that’s the ultimate joke, right there! Freeze playback at timecode fifteen-thirty-two and...” Joker slapped his knees as tears started rolling down his face. “Oh my god, when Shepard sees that, he is going to _shit_ himself.”

“It’s not _that_ funny Flight Lieutenant,” a consternated female voice snarked. The cockpit door closed and locked amid the sound of wings. “Mind if I take a seat?” Joker and Adams looked over to see the woman from the video standing there, wearing casual clothes this time rather than her blue businesswear. She had a nonplussed expression on her face, and rolled her eyes at a fresh round of giggles from Joker. “Formal introductions--I’m Hazariel. You two obviously know my companion vessel.”

“Khalisah bint sinan Al-Jilani, Westerlund News,” Joker said between giggles. “I’m sorry, I just...I…”

Hazariel sighed and waved a hand in a _whatever_ gesture. “I know, I know. She was a pain in everyone’s ass for years. We already know that.” Joker took several slow deep breaths and tried to compose himself while the angel kept speaking. “Long story short,” Hazariel explained, “Khalisah and I were both going to die if we didn’t get the fuck off the Citadel when the Reapers swarmed it--I offered her the story of the ages, and she agreed to make a run for it with me. The camera drone bravely sacrificed itself running interference.” The angel put a hand over her heart and looked skyward in a show of mock reverence. “It was a dear friend. It will be missed.”

“Yeah yeah, moment of silence for the camera drone,” Joker said, levering himself up out of his chair to get up in the angel’s face. “Where’s EDI?”

“She’s safe. It’s...it’s a little involved.”

Joker sat back down. “Well as you can see,” he snarked, sweeping a hand over the view from the cockpit windows, “we have lots of time. Where. Is. She?”

Hazariel sighed. “This is probably against my better judgment,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose, “but you do deserve to know.” She nodded to Joker. “You especially. But I can only tell you the parts that have directly to do with EDI--are we clear?”

“Talk.” Adams and Joker replied in unison.

“Okay then.” The angel took a deep breath. “It starts with Alchera,” she began. “When Stannis died, and Cerberus managed to get his body away from the Shadow Broker, who was going to give him to the Collectors--yeah, he was going to do that. So anyway...”

 

 

 **Heaven** **  
** **Hall of the 21st Cycle, Master Library**

**Five seconds before the Crucible Activation**

 

Israfel stood before the containment unit that held her husband’s husk. “Soon, husband.” The husk lay inert on the floor of the unit.

 

 

> _Israfel..._

Gabriel’s voice echoed in her head. At the mention of her name, the archangel started to whisper. “ _Aneth’kl’aa-n’a’h h’ii’st’k’a-kii’th’s’aal’kun_.”

She stepped back, and the forcefield around the containment unit shimmered. It turned white as grace filtered up from the unit’s powercell, then crackled with crimson static for an instant before imploding and sending a shower of sparks toward the ceiling of the Master Library. The light faded, and Israfel looked up to see countless motes of light twinkling like stars as they drifted above Library’s halls.

“The children of Aneth’k have been avenged by their sons,” Israfel said quietly to the pile of ash still glowing on the bottom of the containment unit. “You’re free now.” She ran a hand down the glass of the containment unit and closed her eyes, drinking in the quiet left behind by the dissipation of the containment field around the unit.

Laughter and the sounds of celebration broke the silence.

Israfel opened her eyes and looked up. Instead of the Library, she was standing on a hill overlooking a garden filled with people in the midst of celebration. The fragrant smell of long-extinct spices and flowers reached her nose, and she smiled. “One of the happiest days of my life,” she said softly.

“And mine, _ki’ith’aal’ash’.”_ A man in a simple blue tunic and kilt walked up to her. His broad face had a wave design painted on it, and his almond-shaped green eyes sparkled in the setting sun of the planet now known as Khar’shan. His long red hair hung in loose waves over his shoulders. “Is it really you, Israfel?”

Israfel nodded, and a tear ran unbidden down her cheek. “It’s me, K’al.” The pair embraced tightly, and Israfel buried her hose in her husband’s hair as she started to cry. “Husband…” The pair pulled back a bit, and K’al reached up to wipe the tears from the angel’s eyes. "I'm in your Heaven..."

“And I’m here _now,_ Izzy,” he said softly. “I’m here now.” K’al kissed his wife, once and then once again. “This--our wedding day--is a happy memory for the both of us,” he whispered in Israfel’s ear as he embraced her once more. “Your visits and the thought of being able to share this day with you again helped to keep me strong during my imprisonment. This is _our_ Heaven, now.”

Israfel took a half-step back from her husband’s soul, still holding onto him with one hand and wiping her eyes with the other. “I didn’t know if this day would ever come.” She smiled, and leaned in to kiss her husband again. “I want nothing more than to spend the next million years here with you, husband--but the fight...the fight’s not over yet.” The angel sat down on the ground, and K’al sat across from her, resting his chin on his hand. “Do you remember meeting Stannis, when you were imprisoned?”

“I do.” K’al smiled. “And I know that look. Does our _ki’ith’shi’aa_ need you?” When Israfel nodded, K’al leaned forward and gave her a lingering kiss. “Then go to him,” he whispered.

“But…” 

K’al chuckled. “Go, my love. You waited for me.” He stood and reached down to help Israfel up. “It’s my turn to wait for you, now.” They kissed again. “Go on. I’ll be here when you return.”

“ _S’th’aal’ash,_ K’al.”

“And I love you, Israfel. I’ll see you soon.”

Israfel gave her husband a final kiss and pressed her forehead to his. “I’ll see you soon.”

 

 

 **Heaven** **  
** **Consensus Assembly Chamber**

**Ten minutes after Crucible Activation**

 

A portal wreathed in dark energy crackled and sputtered in the center of a circle of Enochian sigils marked on the floor as Israfel rushed into the chamber. “I’m here--where’s everyone else?”

“You’ll go through first; let me know when you’ve secured Adi’s successor, and we’ll get our friends on Team Free Will ready to go.” Cadfael rubbed his forehead for a minute. “Oh yeah, and that package for the Winchesters--it went through with Elder Son.”

Israfel nodded. “Gotcha. I’ll leave it in the back seat of the Impala.”

The burly spymaster nodded and ran a hand through his red hair. “Well…” he let out a deep sigh. “It’s ballsy, going through this alone--”

“So was me barging into Dad’s private space without asking.” She looked at the portal and cracked her knuckles. “But it needed doing. Just like this does--that, and you know I won’t be alone.”

The spymaster nodded. “True. Anyway; You’ll come out in Bobby Singer’s place so you should be able to check on Az. And, assuming Bartholomew hasn’t managed to dig them out of wherever they’re hiding, you’ve got a couple of people to look for.” Cadfael put both his beefy hands on his sister’s shoulders and smiled. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Israfel nodded. “I’ll see you soon.” The archangel took a deep breath and touched the portal. Grace flowed from Israfel’s eyes and mouth into the pool of dark energy, and the now-empty vessel slumped to the floor briefly before regaining consciousness.

Cadfael knelt down and put a hand on the vessel's shoulder. “You okay, Adileh?”

“I’m cool.” Adileh sat up and yawned a bit, then slowly stood. “Also overdue for some rack time, just like everyone else on the _Orizaba_ \--Izzy had me going full-tilt ever since the rendezvous over Arcturus.” An angel handed her a glass of water. “Mamnoon,” she said with a nod, thanking the celestial in her native Persian. “Is there anything for me to pass along to Hannah and Steven?”

Cadfael handed Adileh two OSDs, which she eyed while quaffing the water. “Here--one is Gabriel’s encrypted armor-cam footage; he had his Omni-Tool set to tightbeam it here the instant the Crucible activated. The other is the map.”

The human nodded. “Got it. Pardon me.” She stifled a burp against the back of her hand, and handed the now-empty glass to the nameless angel that had given it to her in the first place. “Thank you again,” she said before turning back to Cadfael. “I’ve gotta coordinate a bunch of stuff, now that the fighting is over. Can Kael help with coming whatever’s left of the Citadel for anyone that got supremely lucky?”

The angelic spymaster nodded. “Now that radio silence is lifted, it should be relatively easy to get going with that. Meshach and his mercs are helping out Earthside with ground recovery efforts--I’ll reach out to the agents I’ve got around the galaxy.”

“How many did we--you lose?” Adileh asked quietly. “Izzy couldn’t bring herself to share that with me.”

Cadfael sighed deeply. “Camael was the last, thankfully. But still--proportionally speaking, our losses are about the same as everyone else’s.” The archangel looked out over the assembly chamber. “There are going to be some empty chairs the next time we meet. We expected it, but it still stings, knowing that there are good mortals and angels that won’t be around anymore because of this war.”

Adileh reached up and put a hand on Cadfael’s shoulder, and gave him a friendly squeeze. “We’re all sharing in the hurt,” she remarked. “They were friends of mine as well.”

“Yeah.”

The door opened, and angels came in carrying three sleeping figures in their arms. Adileh looked over and then back at Cadfael. “So,” she said. “Since they’re here--you need me to help send them on?”

Cadfael nodded. “Yeah--we’ll get these three on their way, then Zari’ll zip you back to the _Orizaba_ before going to track down wherever the _Normandy_ landed.” Adileh nodded and went to stand in a spot on the edge of the circle.  The angels carrying Castiel and the Winchesters laid the trio on the center of the circle, under the portal.

A voice drifted into the room. _All clear here and getting ready to roll out for Kansas with my new companion. My boy and his boo are secure, and Az is safely waiting for Sam to get here with that greybox--she woke up for a second to say hi, by the way._

Cadfael smiled. “Hi Azrael.” He turned to look at the other angels as they took up their positions around the circle. “Well, all fourteen of us are here, if you count Adi standing in for Izzy.” The angel looked over at the human. “Just so you’re warned, this may be painful for you--it’s going to take what little of Izzy’s grace you have left.”

“Can’t hurt any worse than the time we skimmed the surface of Arcturus trying to free K’al,” Adileh quipped. “Now _that_ was painful.” The group chuckled for a moment. “Okay--since Izzy is all set, let’s get these guys home.” The fourteen participants in the ritual raised their hands, and the room fell silent except for the crackle and hum from the portal.

The portal rose up in the air and began to turn so that the circle of dark energy was parallel with the circle. It hovered for a moment, and the thirteen angels and one vessel began to chant in Enochian.

 

 

> “ _Ti par sapahn salamann...sapah sagan....”_

The portal stopped just above the unconscious trio for a second, then vanished in an implosion of light and static as the floor opened up. Adi staggered and teetered on the edge of the sudden chasm, and Kael grabbed her in a biotic stasis field. Fourteen seconds after it opened, the portal slammed shut and static crackled over the sigils on the floor for a moment before dissipating in little puffs of ozone. Kael removed the stasis, and Adi fell to her knees, panting.

“I’m okay!” she said, holding up a hand. “Let me catch my breath.” She looked up at the angels around her. “Thanks for the save, Kael.” The hooded angel patted her on the back and kissed the top of her head.

“I’ll gather my recon teams and we’ll head to the Citadel right away. Adi, I’ll let you know as soon as we find anything.” He trotted out of the assembly chamber. One by one, the other angels said their see-you-soons to Adi and walked out of the chamber until only Cadfael and Hazariel were left with her.

“You okay?” Cadfael’s eyebrows were raised a bit. “Need to rest up in the apartment for a bit?”

Adileh shook her head. “I’ll be fine. My heartrate got a little up there for a few seconds, but no harm done.” She looked over at Hazariel. “You know they’re going to shit bricks on the _Normandy_ when you show up.”

The archangel Hazariel snorted and shook her head. “Pfff. They’ll be fine once the swelling goes down,” she said. “Let’s get you back to your post, hon. Besides, I’m just going to have a word with a certain brittle-boned pilot. You want me to have your girlfriend call you, Cadfael?”

The burly angel laughed and rolled his eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend, Zari. But you can let her know that radio silence is lifted--if she wants to talk to me, she’ll get a hold of me.” Hazariel and Adi both shot the angel a look, and his ruddy face turned a deep crimson. “Okay, okay, so I like her. A lot. But just because we hung out and watched _Vaenia_ one night, that doesn’t mean we’re an item unless she decides we are.”

“And on that note,” Hazariel quipped, “We’re outta here. See you soon, Caddy.”

“See you soon.” He stood looking at the floor in silence until his reverie was broken by Liara’s voice in his head.

 

 

 

> _Cadfael, I don’t know if you can hear me, but since the Reapers are gone now I assume that one can safely reach you via prayer. Kaidan’s missing and we’ve crash-landed on an uncharted planet somewhere on the Galactic rim. Things are going to be a mess for a while, but...well, I would also like to spend time with you again when things have calmed down. What is it that humans say? Oh yes, “amen”._

 

Cadfael smiled broadly and put a hand over his heart. “I’ll see you soon,” he whispered, before turning and walking out of the assembly chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Mamnoon" is Persian (Farsi) for "Thank you". Modern Iranians say "mersi", but given that Adileh is not from modern Iran it made more sense to me to use an older and more formalized form of "thanks".


	34. Halo Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everything ends.

**Sioux Falls, SD**

 

> _ You’ve got wisdom, experience...things that I don’t have. Our people on the other side don’t know it, don’t even realize it, but they need hope. They need **you**.” _

_ Wait.... _

> _ I wish I could take back everything I did, but I can’t...so this is my chance to balance the books, and I hope that you’ll be able to forgive me for what I tried to do to you. I’ll see you soon. _

 

 

Stannis Shepard felt gentle hands cradling him, strength returning to his limbs, and a kiss on his forehead. When he woke up, a fluorescent light was shining in his face. He put a hand over his eyes to shield them from the bright light, and slowly sat up. He was on a steel-frame cot with a thin mattress and slightly understuffed pillow. “What the…?”  A groan from behind him made Shepard twist around to see somebody in a fetal position on a similar cot. The light over his head was off. “Kaidan?”  The groaning man nodded slowly. “Migraine?” Kaidan nodded again. “Dammit.” He looked around the room. It was circular, the walls made of riveted iron. Shepard looked up and saw an intricate metalwork design in the ceiling’s ventilation grill. “Where the fuck are we?” He stood, and looked down. He was wearing loose-fit blue jeans, sneakers, and a white t-shirt. Kaidan was similarly dressed. The floor had a design on it that was the same as the design in the ceiling vent. On one wall, there was a white metal chest labelled FIRST AID. Shepard walked across the room and opened the box. He dug through the chest until he found a leather kit with a zipper. He unzipped it and found several pre-loaded hypodermic needles labelled MORPHINE, along with several sealed foil squares. A slightly yellowed note in the kit read ONLY USE IN EMERGENCIES, THIS SHIT’S EXPENSIVE. USE AN ALCOHOL PAD. INFECTIONS ARE A BITCH.

“Find anything?” Kaidan’s voice was weak.

“Yeah--old-fashioned hypodermic injectors. You’re not allergic to anything, right?”

“No. What do they say?”

“Morphine Sulfate. The, uh, instructions say to only use in emergencies. I think a migraine counts.” Shepard grabbed a chair and carried it over to the bed. “Roll over.” Kaidan rolled over, eyes half-closed, and put his arm out. Shepard carefully prepped the needle, and took a deep breath. “Ready?”  Kaidan nodded, and Shepard poked the needle into a vein on his lover’s arm, then slowly pushed the plunger.

Kaidan drew in a sharp breath between clenched teeth. “Shit’s cold, Stannis!” Shepard removed the needle from Kaidan’s arm, then leaned over and kissed him. “But I’ll put up with it if I get one of those every time.”

“Flirt.” Shepard chuckled and stood, then zipped up the kit and walked over to put it back in the medicine chest. “Let me know when it kicks in. In the meantime…”

“Where the hell are we?” Kaidan sat up and looked around the room. “What are these marks on the walls?”

Shepard took a look at one of the marks. “It looks like...you’ve got to be kidding.” Shepard looked over at Kaidan. “You remember those books that Joker found on the Extranet? The ones that Dean Winchester was in a tizzy over?” Kaidan nodded, and Shepard stepped back a pace to look down at the floor. “This is a trap of some kind.” Shepard knitted his brow and rubbed his forehead a bit. “Reaper? No wait--this isn’t what they carved in the rock on Rannoch.”

“It’s a devil’s trap.” Kaidan slowly stood from the bed and looked up at the ceiling, squinting. “So’s that,” he said, pointing up at the roof vent. He licked his finger, touched the tip to the iron wall next to him, then licked his finger again. “Salt. Stannis…” Kaidan looked back at Shepard. “Either we’re dead and this is somebody’s massively fucked-up idea of Heaven--or we’re in Bobby Singer’s panic room.” The biotic sighed. “And this is an angelic bad joke.”

“I don’t know Kaidan,” Shepard said quietly. He walked around the room, murmuring to himself as he inventoried the room. A desk opposite the beds had small stacks of books on it, along with a glass bottle of whisky and an oblong wooden box emblazoned with the logo of the Systems Alliance. Shepard opened the box and looked inside. “Belay that; our Omni-Tools are here, so you may be right.” Kaidan walked over to the desk and took his Omni-Tool when Shepard held it out to him. Shepard also fished out two wallets and a pair of cellphones. “Huh.” He handed one wallet to Kaidan, then looked through the other one. “Some currency, a couple of--what are these?” Shepard pulled out a plastic card with some numbers stamped into it, and a black stripe on the back. He looked closely at the fine-print on the back. “If this card is lost, call 1-800-555-7238...Oh, this must be a 20th-century version of a credit chit.” He looked at the front. "Who's Justin Hayward?" He shrugged and put the card back into the wallet. “Where do I put this?”

“Uhh, Stannis, we have pockets.” Kaidan patted Shepard’s ass and winked. The two of them laughed and shared another kiss as they put their wallets in their back pockets and the cellphones in a front pocket of their jeans. A pair of jackets were thrown over the arms of the desk chair. “At least we’ve got something, rather than just being left to our own devices like the Winche--” The words died in Kaidan’s throat when he walked over to the door and looked out the open viewport. “Holy shit!” He opened the door wide and ran out into the main part of the basement. “Stannis, get out here!” Shepard ran out of the panic room and pulled up when he saw flames.

“What the hell?” Shepard and Kaidan looked at each other, then at the scene on the floor. A heavyset woman dressed in a grey pantsuit lay unconscious in the middle of a circle of fire. “What is this?” Kaidan moved to stamp out the flames, but Shepard stopped him. “No. Wait--there’s got to be a reason she’s in this circle. Maybe it’s protection.” He looked down at the woman, whose eyes snapped open.

“Sam…?” the woman asked the question with a voice that rose barely above a whisper. On her forehead was something that looked like a birthmark, but neither man could get close enough to make it out.

“No,” Shepard said from outside the circle. “Not Sam.” The woman sighed.

“Stannis,” Kaidan said, “I don’t know if we should--” The words died in his throat when the woman looked over at them.

“ _ Nizarim. _ ” The woman smiled slightly. “Good to see you on this side,” she rasped. “I need you to find Sam, asap. He has something I need.” She closed her eyes again. "The circle of holy fire will protect me."

Shepard sighed deeply and looked out the basement window. "Somebody's coming," he said. "A black ground vehicle just pulled up."

"Stannis..." the woman in the circle whispered sleepily. "They're looking for you."

Shepard looked back over at the woman in the circle. "What?"

"They mean to kill you, _Nizarim_." she opened her eyes. "I can't help you. Run. Find Sam." A crash upstairs and the sound of angry shouts and stamping feet drowned out the woman. Shepard and Kaidan looked at each other, and flicked on their barriers as a group of men in dark suits wielding silvery blades rushed down the stairs to surround them. Shepard let loose a biotic shockwave, and the suited men staggered just long enough for him to charge into the middle of them.

"Come on, Kaidan!" The pair of biotics blitzed up the stairs and out the smashed back door into the junkyard. A circle of fire sprang up around them, but Shepard extinguished it with a biotic nova. In the instant before his barrier could recharge, a heavy thump on the back of his head knocked him out cold.

 

 

**5 miles outside Lebanon, KS**

 

Sam Winchester’s opened his eyes--slowly. He took in a deep breath, and the musty smell of rain, burnt vegetation and ozone filled his nostrils. He turned his head to the right and saw Dean lying nearby, eyes wide open and staring up at the overcast sky, wearing the same clothes they wore when they arrived in Vancouver.

“Dean?”

Dean nodded slowly. “Yeah. Cas?”

A groan made the brothers look over to where the angel was sitting. “I’m here.” The angel slowly stood. “What the hell happened here?” The ground underneath them was charred in a circle about a hundred yards across, with Castiel dead-center. Castiel squatted down and felt the ground. He picked up a pinch of dirt and ash, and smelled it. “Hmm.” He stood and looked at the Winchesters. “It smells like eezo--just the faintest bit of it.”

“The Crucible?” Sam asked. “Azrael did mention something to me about angels working on it--do you think they may have diverted some of the energy to send us home?” Castiel shrugged.

“If they did,” the angel said, “that would explain the presence of eezo.” Castiel looked around the crop circle and then down at himself. “And we have everything that we had when we went on our adventure. It appears that my brethren stayed true to their word.”

Dean looked around. “Yeah, but where are we?” He scanned the horizon. “This isn’t Bobby’s place.” He nudged Sam and pointed at the cell phone in his brother’s hand. “You get a signal on that thing?” Sam gave him a blank look, and Dean grabbed Sam’s hand and looked at the cell phone. “Do you even have it turned on?”

“What?” Sam looked down at his hand. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He pressed the ON button on his phone, and the device lit up. Sam held up the phone and turned to his left and then to his right, as if scanning the horizon with it. The phone beeped twice. “We’ve got signal--so we’re near a tower or a repeater, at least.” Sam brought the phone down and punched up an app. “Aaaand the GPS has us...huh.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “”Huh?””

“We’re five miles outside of Lebanon, Kansas.” Sam pointed to the east. “Batcave is that way.”

“And the car?” Dean started looking around in earnest, craning his neck to try to get a better look over the tall corn. “Don’t tell me those junkless dicks left Baby in South Dakota…” He stamped and huffed for a moment, then took a couple of deep breaths. “Okay Dean,” he whispered to himself, “don’t hyperventilate...the car’s at Bobby’s…” He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see his brother looking at him with a slight smirk.

Sam pointed toward the east. “The road’s that way too, Dean. The sooner we get to the Batcave, the sooner we can get to Bobby’s.” Dean looked at him blankly, and Sam continued, “And get the Impala?” Dean mouthed  _ oh _ , and the brothers started marching eastward through the field with Castiel in tow. “Hey Cas,” Sam asked over his shoulder, “You still have your biotics?”

Castiel floated past them, a few inches off the ground and cloaked in his biotic aura. “No wings--but yes.” The angel stopped and settled to the ground at the edge of the field. He hopped across the ditch and turned to face the brothers, then leaned back against the car parked at the side of the road. When the brothers emerged from the cornfield, Dean’s eyes lit up.

“It’s my Baby!” The hunter vaulted across the ditch and started covering the hood with kisses. “Oh Baby, I’ve missed you so much…” Sam and Castiel stood and watched Dean shower the Impala with affection before going over the car. “And the keys are inside? And it…” Dean popped the hood and looked underneath to find the engine pristine and sparkling. “...it’s been detailed?!” Dean closed the hood, slowly walked over to Castiel, and put his hands on the angel’s shoulders. “Cas, two things. One: I love you. Two: I’m sorry for saying that your family are all dicks. Some of them are actually pretty cool and not-dickish.” He hugged Castiel tightly and planted a kiss on each cheek, then smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

Sam opened the rear passenger door and pulled out a medium-sized box. “This wasn’t in the car when we were at Bobby’s.” He set it on the trunk and opened it. “Huh. Check this out--all our stuff that we had when we were on the  _ Normandy _ . Our pistols, some clips, my greybox, even our Omni-Tools and Dean’s rock collection...and the Fishdog Food Shack Frequent Feaster card that Garrus got you as a joke, Cas.” He pulled out a small metallic container. “And this--it’s kinda making my hand tingle.” He opened it up to expose the contents. “This looks like eezo, so that’s definitely for you too.” Sam shrugged and put it back in the box. “Let’s get to the Batcave--we can unpack this there.” The trio looked at each other and nodded, and climbed into the car. Dean started it up and listened. “A tune-up. Huh. Wherever you are, mysterious angel,” he said, “Apology accepted.”

 

 

 

**Adeleh**

 

“Huh.” A young woman opened the door marked 41. The lights came up as soon as she walked inside, revealing a long vaulted hall with high shelves of books, scrolls, and displays of artwork and artifacts. “Wow…” The woman walked down the hall, browsing titles and taking in the smell of old paper and papyrus, when the shelves changed from books to what looked like rows and rows of tablets like the ones she used at work. She pulled a tablet from the shelf and looked at the title:

  _A History of the Great Reaper War, 2183-2187_

“That’s my favourite.” A woman who looked almost like her stood there wearing what looked like a military dress uniform. She had dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, deep hazel eyes, and was about six inches shorter. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. This is just the best way for us to talk.”

“Umm...Who are you?”

The woman in uniform raised her eyebrows. “What?  Oh, right, sorry. My name’s Israfel. You can call me Izzy, though. And the reason why I look a lot like you is because this,” she said as she patted her stomach, “is--or was, rather--my first companion. Her name is Adileh, with an I. and she’s your ancestor.”

Adeleh quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head sideways a bit. “Companion? Wait wait, don’t tell me--you’re the Doctor, and you need my help to defeat the Daleks.”

Israfel laughed. “That’s a good one, but no. I’m an angel of the Lord. I’ve come to you because I need a new companion. A vessel to contain me, so that I can interact with mortals.”  Adeleh narrowed her eyes, and Israfel continued, “Like Nadira and Azrael.”

“Are you shitting me?! I haven’t seen my sister in a year and a fucking half!” Adeleh threw the tablet down and got up in the angel’s face. “Where is she?!” she demanded.

Israfel nodded and stood firm, her face two inches from Adeleh’s. “Our sisters are in hiding--it’s a long story, and I promise that I’ll tell it to you if you’ll give me a chance. Please, just hear me out. I’ve come to you because you’re my true vessel, just as your ancestor was.”

“And where is she?” the mortal’s eyes blazed with barely-contained anger. She took a step back and stared down the angel, arms crossed defiantly.

“She’s retired after a little over two million years of hanging around me, and she’s doing her own thing now. She's on the other side of a door that we've got to get unsealed. Alive and well, and with luck you’ll even get to meet her.” Israfel sighed and leaned against one of the bookshelves. “Look, Addy. If you say yes to me, I promise you’ll get the full story...and it’s a long one.” The angel bent down and picked up the datapad from the floor. “This datapad, it’s...it’s one of a metric fuckton-and-a-half that exist in an actual library. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Addy, please. I really do need you--not just your body, but also your perspective as a mortal. I won’t lie; it’s going to be scary at times. We’re going to be in harm’s way ninety percent of the time, we’re going to get shot at and stabbed and probably even set on fire a time or two. But I promise that I won’t hide anything from you. I’ll eat at least once a day and make sure to stay hydrated. I’ll shower at least twice a week, and I’ll even take a break every couple of days so that you can get some sleep for the sake of your mental well-being.”

“And if I decide I want out?”

“I’ll make sure that you’re safe, and I’ll leave without question or complaint.” Israfel stuck out her hand. “Addy, I know you well enough to know that your curiosity, sense of adventure, and unwillingness to take shit are some of your best assets--Adi, your ancestor, was the same way. Will you please give me a chance?”

Adeleh pursed her lips and made a tooth-sucking sound. “Find my sister and get some answers, or stay home and wonder what the fuck is going on for the rest of my life….” She sighed and stuck her hand out. “What the Hell. You’ve got yourself a companion--yes.”

Israfel smiled. “Thank you Addy.” The angel clasped Adeleh’s hand in a firm handshake, and the library dissolved in bright white light, accompanied by a keening shrill that quickly fell silent as angel and mortal joined.

 

_ Ah shit. Hey Addy? _

> _ Uhh...yes? _

_ I, uh, don’t have use of my wings in this world, so we kinda need to drive--where’d you put the keys to your car? _

> _ You’ve gotta be shitting me... _   
>    
> 

 

**Somewhere in the Caleston Rift**

 

“Steven?” Hannah Shepard looked over at the rangy man sitting in the pilot’s seat. 

“Hmm?” Even in civilian clothes, Steven Hackett looked like he was commanding the fleets. His eyes flickered over the panels in front of him as he piloted the shuttle. He looked over to Hannah, and his piercing gaze softened. 

“Are you positive these are the right coordinates?” Hannah asked.

The shuttle’s console beeped, and Hackett keyed in a series of commands before speaking again. “I’m sure,” he replied. “That was the auto-dock prompt. We should be okay, now that we’re clear of the asteroids.” He turned to face the mother of his sons. “Hannah…” Hackett smiled and got out of the pilot’s seat to kneel in front of her, then brushed a stray lock of silver-streaked dark hair from her face.

Hannah sighed and nodded, then looked out the shuttle’s virtual windows at the asteroid field and the large planetoid camped at the edge. She smoothed her hands over the legs of her civilian overalls. “Do you think we’ll see Stannis again?” Her voice broke, and Hackett caressed her cheek and embraced her.

“Not even dying could keep him from getting a job done,” he said, his voice softening to a burry whisper. “He’ll be fine--and he’ll come back.” The shuttle’s console beeped again, and the shuttle shook slightly as it came to dock. “Looks like we’re here--you ready to see what the big surprise is?”

Hannah nodded. The two of them stood, and Hackett hit the door release before the pair walked out of the shuttle. The docking bay was empty save for the shuttle and the two humans. A gigantic circular door stood before them. The door looked like a stone wheel shot through with faintly glowing tendrils of eezo. The hub of the wheel was an enormous cabochon-cut stone with inclusions that sparkled like tiny stars. Hackett took a deep breath and reached out to touch the stone. The stone began to glow brightly, and the door rolled to the side to reveal a platform lift. The pair stepped onto the lift, and it began a slow angled descent into the planetoid. “This can’t be--” Hannah’s voice stopped when the lift passed into an immense cavern. Artificial sunlight filtered down through a projection of a forest canopy to the floor below. Long halls lined with tall shelves and exhibits radiated out from the center of the cavern floor. At the hub was a round dais with data stations, overlooking long wood tables with data terminals of their own. “Oh my God...Steven, this is what Israfel was talking about?”

Hackett nodded slowly. “I think so.”

A group of fifteen men and women wearing black-and-white smocks and heads-up visors stood at parade rest at the bottom of the lift. Their leader, an athletically-built blonde human female with sparkling blue-and-purple streaks in her ponytailed hair and a mark on her forehead, bit her lip and nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other as the Admirals descended on the lift. When the lift came to rest and the gate opened, the woman took a step forward and bowed slightly, then grabbed each of them in a bearhug.

“Hannah! Steven! I’m Ruth,” she said with a smile. “I’m the Chief Librarian, and I’m so happy to finally meet the both of you in person. Welcome to Alexandria--come on,” Ruth exclaimed gleefully as she skipped toward the first of the halls, “Let me give you a tour. These fine people are the Librarians of Alexandria; there are fourteen libraries in total, placed around the galaxy at locations equidistant from each other. New items are added as we get them at the Master Library in Heaven...” 

 

**Final Destination Bar  
** **Location Unknown**

 

The bar’s sole occupant sat back and poured another slug of whiskey into a mug with the words WORLD’S GREATEST DAD printed on it. He swirled the amber liquid in the mug for a moment, then topped it with coffee before taking a sip. “The kids will be alright,” he said. He idly scratched his beard for a moment and smiled, then raised the mug in a toast toward a photo on the wall of a grinning dark-haired teenager in Systems Alliance fatigues. The photo was labelled “Induction Day, 2172”.

“I’ll see you soon.”


End file.
